Defending the Light
by Letishia
Summary: Harry decides he'll do anything to destroy Voldemort, with no idea it’ll include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, Azkaban, exotic new powers, and… a secret identity? Will he be able to keep his secrets without losing everything else?
1. Discovery

Defending the Light

**Summary:** Harry decides he'll do anything to destroy Voldemort, with no idea it'll include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, Azkaban, exotic new powers, and… a secret identity? Will he be able to keep his secrets without losing everything else?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

**Rated For: **Language, violence, sexual innuendo, and some child abuse

This is my first fanfic; if I'm totally botching the thing, please tell me. I only ask one thing of you: If you wish to tell me that my story sucks, please tell me _why_ it sucks. I can't fix anything or improve my writing in any way if I have no clue what's wrong with it in the first place. Thank you and happy reading.

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'…_Wandless Magic is undoubtedly the most complicated and difficult thing any witch or wizard can achieve, and very few can. Albus Dumbledore is known to do a bit and You-Know-Who can barely summon something using it. Only Merlin himself could ever do much (up to the level of the stunning spell), which, coincidentally, is why the Ministry does not even bother trying to keep tabs on wandless magic. Not that they could anyway...'_ –page 284, Dark and Powerful Magic by Hymen Oozier.

Chapter 1: Discovery 

Harry Potter trudged disconsolately down the stairs of number 4 Privet Drive dreary-eyed and tousle-haired. It was his first day back from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and away from dreamless sleep potions. His night had not gone well. He had been ignored the entire trip home to the Dursley's, and by the time he arrived at the house, the car ride had made him a bit lethargic. But tired or not, insomnia had kept him awake and he had ended up pacing around his room in grim despondency.

When he was younger and something bad happened to him, he would accept it as part of his life and dream of something better. As of last year thoughts would race through his head like a whirlpool. 'Why me' was what they mostly consisted of. But last night, Harry had made a decision. Thoughts had still raced through his head, but those thoughts had been thoughts on what he could change, not what he couldn't. Perhaps it was a sign of maturity, perhaps it had to do with the fact that the fate of the world rested on his shoulders and he had absolutely no bloody idea what to do about it. Harry personally didn't care. He repeated the Prophesy in his head:

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches_

_Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies_

_And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,_

_But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not_

_And either must die at the hand of the other_

_For neither can live while the other survives_

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._

Merlin, why did it feel like something was missing from the Prophesy? Because it trailed off? No, it was something deeper. Damn it, Dumbledore had to be hiding something from him again. But considering last year, he was most likely only jumping to conclusions.

Harry continued down the stairs, it was noon already. He had tried to do something useful last night. He felt like he should at least try to be helpful in fighting the war. So Harry had done the only thing he could do: study. He'd made flashcards trying to memorize spells and their affects, he thought he'd drift off eventually, but he hadn't. Until five in the morning that is.

Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way to the kitchen. It appeared that Dudley had just gotten up as well. Dudley had made vast improvements, Harry had to admit. Wrestling had giving him more muscle and less fat. But that apparently didn't mean he wasn't still stuffing himself. Dudley looked to be on his fourth helping of breakfast, while Aunt Petunia was still munching away on the gourmet salad she'd made herself for lunch.

Harry sat down and started serving himself, his aunt: ignoring him, his uncle: eyeing him as if he were some bloke come in off the street who normally nicks food out of rubbish bins. Taking note of the bangers across the table Harry began to ask Dudley if he would pass them over, but apparently, fate, or whatever it was that kept screwing with his life, had other plans.

"BOY!" Vernon hollered at the top of his lungs, "WHAT IS THAT BLOODY OWL DOING PECKING ON OUR WINDOW?"

Harry turned and looked at the window above the sink to see a large tawny owl with a letter and a small package in its talons rapping at it, "Well, he's obviously trying to get in."

"AND WHAT WILL MAKE HIM STOP THE RACKET?"

"Um… letting him in," Harry responded, wondering how far he could push his uncle with this.

Vernon stopped yelling (he was most likely remembering what Mr. Weasley. Moody, Tonks, and Lupin had told him at Kings Cross yesterday), but his face did change from red to maroon, "Then why don't you go let him in."

Deciding it was pointless to argue and push the envelope anymore then he already had, Harry walked over and opened the kitchen window. Apparently this was going to be another average day at the Dursley household, complete with annoyances, the word 'freak' used twenty times a day, and lots and lots of yelling. To his surprise, however, upon opening the window the owl flew right past him. And he was even more surprised when it flew over to Vernon and dropped the letter and package right on Vernon's lap before flying out again. It ended up as one of those times when it's really, really loud, yet you can only catch a few snippets of what people are saying. To stop the neighbors from being scarred for life by the sights and sounds of the Dursley's freaking out; Harry quickly closed the window and the curtains.

"BOY WHAT THE HELL…"

"VERNON, STOP YELLING IT'S ONLY A BIRD!"

"Dad…"

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE PLAYING AT…"

"Um… no, really, Dad, look at this."

Harry glanced to the letter Dudley was reading, what the hell was in that thing? He reached for it but Dudley, being a head taller then Harry held it out of his reach.

"Hey, give me that," Harry made a grab for the letter and ended up tackling his cousin.

"IF ONE OF THOSE IDIOT BIRDS EVER ENTERS MY HOME AGAIN…"

"**ATTENTION VERNON, DUDLEY, AND HARRY**," everyone immediately clapped their hands over there ears and Dudley, who was about to succeed in putting his cousin in a headlock, froze to the sound of Petunia Dursley with a megaphone, "**THE LETTER IS ADDRESSED TO ME, PUT IT ON THE KITCHEN TABLE AND NOBODY GETS HURT!**"

Grumbling Harry picked the letter up off the floor and slapped it on the table.

"Thank you," Aunt Petunia reached for her letter but Vernon got there first.

"I'll read it," he growled at his wife before clearing his throat. "Ah-hem, Dear Mrs. Dursley… yada, yada… blah, blah, blah… DOES THIS MAN EVER GET TO THE POINT?"

"Second paragraph, Dad," Dudley rolled his eyes at his father.

"Oh, yes. Thank you son, I always knew you were the smart one…"

Harry rolled his eyes and waited for his uncle to carry on.

Vernon continued, his mustaches giving a little leap upward as he did so, "Blah, blah, blah… Your safety may be at risk…" he gave a snort, "to insure you have a decent way to contact help when there isn't enough time to reach the telephone… What is that man…? I have supplied you with a device that will bring me to your direct location in a matter of nanoseconds?" Vernon looked up, one eye twitching madly, "What damn device? And what in the world are nanoseconds? Some kind of freak term?"

"Nanoseconds, are like, really short amounts of time." Dudley said dully.

"One billionth of a second, dear," Aunt Petunia responded. "Now perhaps I should keep this device thing since I'm home with Harry most of the day."

Vernon pulled out a small square, box-shaped object out of the package. It had a big red button on it along with a note that said 'must hold for five seconds' on it.

Vernon practically growled at the little gadget that could potentially bring another wizard into his home, "Liar, the man said he could be over in one billionth of a second, not five and one billionth… And _I_ will be the one in charge of this thing. _In charge of throwing in the fire…_"

Harry didn't care one way or another what happened to the thing if he wasn't going to have possession of it anyway. But when he looked at it, he felt something on it. Like an aura of sorts.

"I don't think that's going to work," he told his uncle.

"You don't think what's not going to work?"

"Burning that device; it has an unbreakable charm on it."

Vernon looked down at it, "then I guess I'll just have to keep it safe with me so it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. You know how those neighbor kids are with buttons."

Petunia just sank into her seat and pouted, stabling her fork rather menacingly into her salad. Soon everyone else was following her lead and sitting back down for breakfast. Harry rubbed his right arm and berated himself for being so stupid as to pick a fight with a wrestling champion. What was getting into him lately? Maybe he just still wasn't over Siri… Harry repeated the words 'I will not think of Sirius' in his head fifteen times before he gave up because, ostensibly, to try to forget about someone by repeating their name in your head fifteen times does nothing but make you depressed.

Harry sighed resentfully before asking of his cousin, "Pass the bangers, please."

"Why should I?"

"Because I said 'please', just hand over the bloody bangers."

"No."

It was at this point that Harry cracked. His head was hurting, he was tired, and he'd just had enough of being pushed around. Dumbledore had done it all year. The Dursley's had done it all his life. He didn't know why he exploded just then, normally he would have forgotten about it in an instant, but something was building up inside of him, and it all seemed to come out in two simple words:

"Accio, bangers!"

It could have ended there. Dudley could have laughed at his pathetic attempts at retrieving the platter and Vernon could have gone off into a mad rant about how unnatural his nephew was. But the thing was… it didn't end there. The whole plate of bangers flew towards Harry. The room went silent as the plate landed with a soft thud on the space of table right in front of Harry. Vernon's eyes narrowed and Harry's mind started racing again, so did his heart.

Harry stood and dashed up the stairs. He was going to get expelled. He was sure about it. Once in his bedroom, he started pacing. What could he do? Wait around until the Ministry officials arrived, then invite them to a cuppa? Pace around the room until he passed out from getting too dizzy to walk? Or perhaps he'd just study some more. He could explain what had happened before they broke his wand and maybe someone would believe he had left his wand upstairs and didn't know why the spell had worked the way it did. He found it hard concentrating, however. He waited for four hours constantly reading the same paragraphs of his books ten times before realizing he was doing so, waiting impatiently for something grievous to happen to him. But nothing did.

Then, at four twenty-seven that same evening, an owl taped on his window making him fall off the bed in shock. But it wasn't from the Ministry, it was from the school. Harry took in his hands the broom-shaped package the owl had delivered. It was his Firebolt, in perfect condition. It also included a note to him from McGonagall informing him that he was back on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

What was going on here? There was no letter, no Ministry officials, and he had had no wand when he had done that summoning charm. It wasn't like he hadn't done it before though. There had been the whole snake thing with Dudley and… wait a second. He hadn't gotten in trouble for the snake thing either. But there was the pudding incident and… Dobby. Dobby did that. Aunt Marge, however… Could it have had something to do with her being a Muggle? Harry wanted information. He wanted it here and now.

So thanking Merlin that his Firebolt had an acceleration of 150 miles an hour in ten seconds, Harry ended up flying to King's Cross then through Platform 9 ¾ before following the train tracks to Hogwart's. The wind blew through his hair as he once again felt the joys of being free, just being a part of the air, the world.

Landing noiselessly on the streets of Hogsmeade, Harry made the decision that he would not try to sneak directly into Hogwarts. Knowing Dumbledore, there would probably be some kind of trap for intruders of something. Not to mention the portraits were going to be watching the place. The passage from Honeydukes turned out to be an excellent way in. And once inside, things started going according to plan for once.

Harry snuck into the restricted section of the library and 'borrowed' all the books that looked worth reading. It was definitely a good thing Madam Pince was on holiday. He shoved the reading material into an old backpack of Dudley's that he'd retrieved from the rubbish bin and kept just in case.

The school looked different in the summer at night. No one graced the halls except the portraits, which Harry hid from under his invisibility cloak. Not even the ghosts were around, at least according to the Marauder's Map. Harry glanced down at the Map. Dumbledore was not in his office. Harry's brow furrowed at the thought of his Headmaster. Then he remembered all the old, leather-bound books up there in his office. He wondered if one of them held the answer he wished for. Dumbledore seemed to know many things others didn't, perhaps something could be discovered there. Harry found a way into the Headmaster's office within five minutes.

Still under the invisibility cloak, he crept in quietly so not to wake the sleeping portraits before checking out the bookshelf. It was full of interesting looking volumes, such as one entitled, 'The Book of Wizarding Law' and another, called Dark and Powerful Magic. Harry took in the scent of them, and could almost see why Hermione was so into books. Well… almost.

"_And,"_ Harry had thought as he looked at them, _"They don't have charms on them to keep them from being magically altered like most books are."_

He studied them a while, he had no idea how he'd just figured out about the charms, but at the moment, he didn't care. Books mingled with important documents from the Wizarding legislature to the Department of Mysteries. Perhaps he could copy them; he remembered a charm being used once that could do things like that. Wondering whether he could do it without a wand as he had last time he needed something done, Harry whispered the incantation. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing happened. Harry finally got so angry with the object (but angrier at himself) that he just kicked the bookcase softy. And the books did exactly what he wanted them to. They even shrunk to fit into Dudley's old backpack.

Harry supposed he would always look back on that day and wonder. He had not gotten all the answers he wished for, but Dark and Powerful Magic, which was written by a official at the German department of Mysteries named Hymen Oozier (what kind of name was that?), had told him enough. According to Oozier, barely anyone could do wandless magic that was in any way useful. At one time in their early years a young witch or wizard might be able to make a candle flicker with it, but only Dumbledore and Voldemort could really do something of importance with it.

Oh, how surprised Hymen Oozier would be if he saw what was going on in the smallest bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry, who sat crossed legged on his bed. He pointed his index finger at a mouse, which was currently scurrying around in a cardboard box, and in a clear voice uttered the words "Stupefy!"

The mouse immediately fell, making a soft sound, no louder then a heartbeat, as it hit the ground.

"Well," Harry turned to his owl Hedwig, "I've got the stunning spell down."

He checked off another spell from a list he had made. It had been six days since he'd returned to his room with everything he believed he needed, and the room had gone through many changes indeed. Hedwig hooted from the pile of textbooks she was currently perched on top of, right next to Harry's unexploited wand. The room was now full of books, simmering cauldrons, lab rats (courtesy of Hedwig), complicated diagrams, and many other various odds and ends. A formally unused fireplace whose dusty ashes and emptiness had once added to the forlornness of the untidy room had a fire in it. It was a magical fire that gave off a gentle orange and yellow glow that merged with the light of a single electric lamp. All around the walls were bookshelves lining almost every space of wall in the room. A desk was there also, and most of the junk had been either cleared out or repaired. Harry had made the desk and shelves from the masses of old wood in the shed that Dudley had once wanted to make into a tree house but didn't because he was too busy ditching summer school. The room had an eccentric look about it, that was for sure, and it teamed with the feeling of magic. An odd sight in the tidy suburban neighborhood, to be sure, even for Harry himself.

Harry sighed; wondering about the new discoveries the Department of Mysteries had apparently made on how magic works. He read up on everything, the papers from the Department of Mysteries were very useful. But they created more questions then answers. Nevertheless, there was one thing he did know: he wasn't going to get caught any time soon unless someone actually saw him doing the magic. He had also figured out he was even more abnormal then he had believed he was. Not a comforting thought. But he'd do anything to destroy Voldemort.

As much as they hoped they could, the Order of the Phoenix was not going to be able to destroy the Dark Lord if Death Eaters were going to start picking them off like flies again. Harry shuddered at the thought. The Ministry, no matter what they told the public, was not doing anything even remotely useful. Okay, so maybe the Order deserved a little more credit. But at the moment, Harry was still not happy with Dumbledore at all. Despite the great information his office had provided.

"_But why should I think I can do anything useful either?"_ Harry thought as he kicked the shoebox to the floor, _"How will wandless magic ever become of use for anything other then duping the Ministry? Unless Voldemort takes my wand there's no way it will help me out at all. Voldemort will probably kill me anyway, wandless magic or no…" _

BOOM!

All of the sudden, one of the cauldrons (which wasn't really a cauldron, but one of Aunt Petunia's good cooking pots) exploded and sent a huge cloud of green smoke filtering into the air. Harry rushed to his dysfunctional potion and started, tampering with it magically. When the smoke cleared, Harry was faced with a very pissed off Vernon Dursley standing in the doorway.

"WHAT HAPPENED AND WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THIS PLACE?" Vernon managed to roar while taking in the shock of seeing Harry's room for the first time since his nephew had moved in.

Harry didn't know how his Uncle managed to appear calm but he did. The Dursley's had been avoiding him like the plague since the 'banger incident', so no one had dared step into the realm of terror, otherwise known as Harry's bedroom.

"It's okay," Harry reassured him with a grin, maybe it would be okay to freak Vernon out just a _little_ bit, "The wolfsbane potion was saved, I'm making it for a friend who's a werewolf since he can't afford it anymore."

At least according to Ron and Hermione's letter, he couldn't. Harry wasn't about to let the last connection to his parents go because of something as stupid as that. And potions was a lot like cooking in a way.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE DAMN POTION! I JUST WANT TO KNOW… Did you say werewolf?" Harry smirked at the look on his Uncle's face.

"Uh, huh, and for your information I'm doing this so that I can someday maybe save the world from imminent doom from the evil, psycho wizard who killed my parents and godfather." This was fun…

Before Vernon even had time to register what his nephew had just said, another voice joined the conversation, "Sirius is dead?"

The two whipped around in shock to confront a pale-faced Petunia. She framed the doorway holding a pile of laundry, her blond hair in little wisps around her boney face.

"Ye… yes, a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's servants, k… killed him." Harry managed to choke out, trying not to get too many flashbacks of that night. Why did he even say that? And better yet, what was with Aunt Petunia? "Did you know him?"

But when Harry looked up, Aunt Petunia was already gone. And no wonder, the look Vernon was giving the spot she left was quite scary.

"Well boy," Uncle Vernon picked up the discussion again, "maybe I'll just contact your little freak government and find out if what you're doing is authorized. Or perhaps that old man might want to know something about this."

Vernon waved Dumbledore's alerting device threateningly.

"NO!" Harry shouted in panic, he had obviously underestimated his uncle, "You can't tell anyone, and I… I can do magic on you, and no one will find out! They can't find out… They…"

But before he could finish, Vernon had shoved him against the wall and slugged him across the face. Harry just stared at him. His body froze from the shock of the blow and he felt anger boil in him like it never had. But he knew he couldn't fight back, if he as much as levitated his Uncle, Vernon might drastic. Instinct held him back as much as logic though, fighting back had always made things worse, much worse. It wasn't too often he had gotten hurt badly by Vernon Dursley, but the occasion hadn't been too rare either, at least before he'd started getting his letters to Hogwarts it hadn't. It had been the shock of the whole scenario happening to him again that had kept his mind from reacting quicker.

"You can't do that to me, I'm not eleven anymore. I won't just stand and take it. I'll just tell those so-called freak friends of mine or curse you into oblivion myself!"

"You won't tell anyone boy, not unless you want the whole world to know about the illegal operation going on in this room of yours. You tell, I tell. Got it?"

Harry just nodded icily. That was all he could think to do at the moment.  
"Good. And no healing yourself magically. Tomorrow, you are going to clean this whole place from top to bottom." 

Harry groaned, wondering how he was going to get out of the mess he was currently in. He had definitely gone too far, but thinking further, Vernon probably would have made that deal with him eventually.

"_How do I get out of this mess?"_ He wondered, _"There's no doubt Vernon can contact Dumbledore. Sure I could threaten my relatives, but all they need to do is push a button and all my plans are over. The only other option I have is to kill them. Ha! I still cringe at the thought of killing Voldemort! At least I'll still be able to do my thing up here, even if I do have to work for it. I've been in worse predicaments before, after all. Still, this is going to be one long summer…"_

Oh, how right he was.

Just then an owl flew through the open window and landed gracefully on the hard bed, its wings whispering softly as it landed. Harry untied the letter from its leg and started to read. As he did, he totally forgot about the swelling black eye he had just received.

"Damn you, Umbridge!"

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**Next Chapter:** Harry finds out that what is in the letter and decides to take matters into his own hands, even though Dumbledore tells him not to and the Mirror starts acting weird. If you don't know what mirror, please contact me so I can come whack you on the head with something heavy.

**Questions/Comments:** Email me:


	2. Retaliation with Uncertainty

**Defending the Light**

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter so don't sue.

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_Just then an owl flew through the open window and landed gracefully on the hard bed, its wings whispering softly as it landed. Harry untied the letter from its leg and started to read. As he did, he totally forgot about the swelling black eye he had just received. In fact, he totally forgot about any physical feeling he possessed._

"_Damn you Umbridge!" _

Chapter 2: Retaliation with Uncertainty 

The letter was actually two letters sent to him from Ron and Hermione, and the first went as follows:

Dear Harry,

You'll never guess what Hermione found out about while spying on the adults!

_I was not spying Ron, I just couldn't help overhearing!_

Yeah, whatever. Anyways Hermione found out that Umbridge is pressing charges against Professor Lupin! And do ya know why mate? Well see

_Ron, your grammar is atrocious! And it was because he was trying to get a job and FEED HIMSELF, PERHAPS! _

And just because he happens to go furry once a month (Know what I mean)! Thought you might want to know.

Ron

_And Hermione_

P.S. We managed to nick this from Lupin's coat pocket.

The other letter was a ministry notice to Lupin from Umbridge herself. It appeared as if she had gotten over her little centaur incident and was back to persecuting halfbreeds at full force.

_Remus J. Lupin,_

_You are herby sentenced to trial in courtroom 10 at the Ministry next Tuesday for requiring a position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you know, the new Werewolf Degree clearly states that no one with lycanthropy can have a job that takes them within a ten foot radius of those around them. You are currently facing heavy fines and imprisonment. Failure to show up at the trial will result in immediate execution the second you are found._

_Forever your superior,_

Dolores Jane Umbridge

_Dolores Jane Umbridge _

Mad, was definitely an understatement to how Harry was feeling at the moment. Other understatements might include: furious, enraged, livid, angry, irate, infuriated, outraged, heated, irritated, and as many other synonyms that existed. He could almost feel the anger flowing through his blood. Professor Lupin was the last connection he had to his parents since Sirius had gone. He would not let Umbridge take everything he had away from him. Harry sat on a small wooden stool and re-read the letter.

'_Facing heavy fines and imprisonment_'! Lupin does NOT have the money for heavy fines; he can't even afford the wolfsbane potion anymore. How am I going to get the potion to him without letting on that it's me anyway? Umbridge will throw him into Azkaban for sure! Maybe I can lend him my money. Good God, how could this happen? First Sirius… no, don't think of Sirius. He's dead. Pull yourself together. I can't believe Umbridge would do this. Okay, so maybe I can. But how could people just let her? That law wasn't even made when he taught at Hogwarts! Maybe I'll write to Dumbledore. Yes, I'll write to Dumbledore and ask him if I can come to the trial."

And with that, Harry scribbled a note to the headmaster and tied it to the leg of the tawny owl (he supposed Ron hadn't trusted Pig with the message). Hedwig hooted disdainfully at the fact that she was unable to assist her owner and turned her back. Trying not to think about adding 'my owl hates my guts' to his list of 'All the Things Wrong with My Life' (which currently resided in an old busted up journal he'd found) Harry watched as the other owl flew off into the distance, its feathers glowing in the waning crescent moon.

The Department of Mysteries was filled with wand-fire. The prophesy lay smashed on the floor. Sirius Black fell through the veil, his body in a graceful arch. Bellatrix was screaming, Voldemort was screaming, the Order members were screaming… all the screaming filled Harry's head like steam fills a kettle and soon he was screaming as well…

"WILL YOU STOP THE BLOODY SCEAMING ALREADY AND MAKE BREAKFAST!" Vernon's voice cut into Harry's dream like a steak knife cuts into partially melted butter.

Harry groaned, thankful for the unintentional mercy his uncle had shown by waking him from his dream. The 'mercy' didn't last long though. Harry felt a sharp pain in his stomach as Vernon kicked him and continued screaming about why Harry wasn't aloud to scream. Ahh, irony.

On his way downstairs, Harry glanced at his weary-eyed face in the mirror.

"Pull yourself together Potter," he told himself quietly. "He's dead, it's in the past, and you can't do anything about it. Nothing you could ever do would make a difference in that. Hell, you can't make a difference about anything. And you probably never will. Stop kidding yourself."

Little did he know, Harry would soon find out just how wrong he was. About everything.

By dinnertime that night, Harry had weeded the garden, finished the wolfsbane potion, mowed the lawn, started attempting a Patronus with wandless magic, vacuumed, swept, and dusted every room in the house (except for his room), and waited impatiently for Dumbledore's response. A response came at last in the middle of dinner by way of a large black owl, an episode which was followed up by an overturned roast chicken and a fork being chucked at Harry's head.

On returning upstairs, Harry quickly ripped open the envelope to find that the letter was not from Professor Dumbledore. It was from Snape!

_Dear Potter,_

_I hope the beginning of this wretched letter does not give you even the slightest impression that you are in any way dear to me, because you are not. I am writing this only on orders from Dumbledore as an answer to the letter that so annoyingly interrupted an Order meeting this morning. Dumbledore just HAD to make it known to all present what you had written, and told me to respond. If Molly calls you a 'sweet boy' one more time I think I shall vomit. Preferably on Lupin, perhaps it will make him look even more depressed then he already is. I delight in the beast's misery. But, I am afraid that he cannot be lost to Azkaban as he is an important part of the Order. So you, Potter, CANNOT come and screw up the trial. That's right Potter, I said cannot, as in no. You hear that Potter: _

_NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!_

_I'm glad someone is telling you NO at last. You need to be kicked around a little if you ask me you spoiled, arrogant Gryffindor._

Professor Snape

At the exact moment Harry finished reading the letter Vernon stormed into the room.

"How many times have I told you boy that I won't stand for those ruddy owls making a nest of MY home! NO OWLS, NO MAGIC, NO DINNER! "

With that, he kicked Harry in the shins and stormed back out.

"No boy, no Potter, no Harry," Harry started chanting, "no magic, no Quidditch, no dinner, no privacy, no freedom of speech, no heroics, no, no, no, no, NO! I am friggin' tired of people telling me no. From now on, I'll decide for myself what's no and what's not."

Harry crossed over to his desk and started to write:

_I don't care what you say, I'm coming anyway._

The next evening, Harry got a letter back from Snape that said:

_I'd like to see you try._

To this, Harry wrote but two words:

_Watch me._

As he sent off his brief correspondence to Snape, Harry noticed something rather odd. _The mirror Sirius had given him was glowing_. But a second later it stopped, and Harry dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. Harry wasn't even sure why he kept the mirror anyway, nonetheless fixed it. But he was attached to it in a way, even if it did seem to give him more bloody hallucinations then a whole bottle of sleeping pills.

Harry then started planning how he was going to get to London. He had twenty-four hours to think up an idea, and flying just happened to be banned in Muggle areas during the daylight…

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**Next Chapter:** Harry goes to the trial anyway and nearly gives a ton of people heart failure.

**Includes:**

A fight between Harry and Umbridge,

An all-new OC

Confused people

**Questions/Comments:** Email me:


	3. Trials and Tribulations

Defending the Light

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except for these few meager words.

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_Harry then started planning how he was going to get to London. He had twenty-four hours to think up an idea, and flying just happened to be banned in Muggle areas during the daylight… _

Chapter 3: Trials and Tribulations 

The day of Lupin's trial, Harry awoke at five-thirty and started preparing. He covered the few bruises that Vernon had given him with a notice-me-not charm and grabbed the old backpack. In it he put a large vial of the wolfsbane potion he had recently finished, his wand (just in case, he didn't want anyone to find out he could do wandless magic), his sneakscope, his invisibility cloak, some spare robes, and the mirror Sirius had given him. For some reason, Harry seemed drawn to the mirror by some bond, some invisible force that was pulling him towards it, urging him not to let it stray too far from his reach. He didn't know why, but he thought it best to take the mirror with him. After packing his stuff, Harry was ready to leave.

On the way out the door, however, it appeared that though he was ready to leave. A certain Uncle of his was not too keen on the idea…

"WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING BOY?"

"Out…" Harry responded innocently.

"I don't think so," Vernon said evilly, "you are going to stay right here and make breakfast."

"No, I am not. If you tell anyone about the little escapades I've been having in my room lately then I swear on my parent's grave I will tell anyone who will listen, including the police, about every miniscule thing you have done to me over these past years. The bruises, broken bones, insults… everything! You can do what you want; I can do what I want, just as long as we keep what goes on in this place quiet. And the 'I can do what I want' part includes me going out when I please, doing magic whenever I please, and yelling at you, SO THERE!"

And with that, Harry angrily slammed the door in Vernon's face, just in time to here him yell:

"Well you're still getting an extra-long list of chores when you get back!"

After that episode, Harry made his way to the Muggle bus stop. He didn't want to cause a scene on the Knight Bus…

"How close can you take me to London?" Harry asked the driver.

"'Bout ten miles to it," was the only response.

Harry nodded mutely and took a seat. He had no idea how he was going to get ten miles, find his way through London, and then sneak into the Ministry, but he figured it would work out… somehow.

As soon as the bus came to a halt, Harry jumped off and decided to find another stop. But before he could, he caught sight of a moving van…

"Stop with the 'are we there yet' nonsense already," the driver of the moving van yelled at the guy in the passenger seat, "you sound like some annoying little five-year-old; we only have ten more miles to London. Then you can use the toilets!"

"_Perfect_," thought Harry, "_just perfect_."

And while no one was looking, the Boy-Who-Lived stole away in the back of the moving van. The huge truck must not have had a very good driver, Harry suspected. For the second it started up again, he was being knocked around and slammed against piles of musty furniture, and to make it worse, he needed to go to use the toilets as well. He could see the headlines now:

**Boy-Who-Lives Found Dead In A Moving Van Squashed By A Tacky Vintage Coach and Covered In His Own Piss**

He bet Draco Malfoy would die laughing at that one.

Five minutes later, Harry jumped out of the back and onto a speeding car. He continued jumping from car to car until finally doing a kind of flip onto the pavement. Harry felt as though his brain was still doing flips in his head as he looked around dizzily to see that almost every passerby was staring at him incredulously.

"Er… hi," Harry managed to choke out before smiling weakly and dashing of into a nearby fast food joint to use the facilities.

As soon as he was done he located an ally and as soon as he was out of sight of the Muggles, Harry sat down and leaned against a dumpster, pondering his next move.

"I wish I could use my wand without being detected," he thought, "I might be able to do that 'point me' charm… wait a second!" Harry picked up a stick from off the ground, "point me!"

All of a sudden, the stuck started spinning. It got faster and faster until pointing towards the end of the ally. Harry started to run using the stick as his guide when he noticed a broken-down motor-scooter which he repaired with magic and charmed to go a hundred miles per hour, using this, he made it to the telephone booth with time to spare. Giving the scooter to some random Muggle kid on the street, he entered and pushed in the number combo (62442).

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business," Came the cool female voice that filled the phone booth.

"The Boy-Who-Lived," Harry said sarcastically as humanly possible, "I'm here to attempt to assassinate Fudge and Umbridge."

"Thank you visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

A square, silver badge fell with a rattle from the place where returned coins usually appeared. On it were the words: _The Boy-Who-Lived, Assassination Attempt on the Minister of Magic and his Senior Undersecretary_.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes, "no wonder an entire hoard of Death Eaters got in here…" he imagined a badge saying: _Lord Voldemort, Attempt to Gain Top-Secret Ministry Information before Blowing the Whole Damned Place to Smithereens_.

Instead of putting the badge on his chest, Harry slipped it into his pocket as the elevator-like telephone booth sunk into the ground. While going down, Harry also donned his invisibility cloak and put a silencing charm on his sneakscope. When at his destination, he was able to maneuver through the throng of workers and ministry officials to the courtroom. (He took the stairs so he wouldn't run the risk of being stuck in a crowded elevator). There was really two floors of courtrooms; the one which Remus was held in was the one on the bottom most part. Harry stopped at the floor above, however, wondering if there were people outside the courtroom that could stop him from entering. He was at the point of wishing he could see through the floor, when, without prior notice:

"Holy crap!"

Harry leaped back in shock, he really was seeing through the floor. And underneath him was a whole assemblage of Order members and Ron and Hermione, who were apparently watching what was going on inside the courtroom by way of some sort of screen that greatly resembled Muggle TV, there was two guards at the door. Still gazing into the floor, Harry walked into the courtroom on his floor and found himself looking into the one below him. His eyes narrowed when he saw that Lupin was chained to the chair. He needed someway to get in there… but HOW?

Then, out of the blue, he knew. He had no idea how, but somehow he did. On intuition alone, Harry ran into a broom closet and lifted up a really badly worn rug. Sure enough, Harry found a trap door beneath it. He opened it up to reveal yet another broom closet that lead into the courtroom Remus was in. Harry listened through the door. He could just make out Fudges voice saying:

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore," Fudge spat out the name and titles, "Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, International Confederation of Wizards member, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has been banned from expressing his judgment today, he is here anyway, for," Fudge rolled his eyes as he read, "moral support. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley"

"Witness for the Defence, Harry James Potter," was Harry's words as he actually broke the door of the broom closet off it's hinges, brushed a mop off his head, and dodged falling cleaner, "you guys really need to organize your closets better… it's a wonder the custodians can find anything."

Remus's eyes widened in shock, Dumbledore stood up so quickly he knocked his chair over, Umbridge glared, and Fudge looked as if he was about to go into cardiac arrest. In fact, a whole bunch of people looked as if they were suffering from heart failure. The rest could do nothing but gape in astonishment.

"H…how d… did you get here!" Fudge exclaimed in a would-be calm voice.

"What's it to you?" Harry retorted with a roll of the eyes.

"The Boy-Who-Lived just burst out of a broom closet!" some man said incredulously, as if he barely believed the fact himself, "what do you mean 'what's it to you?'."

"Not to mention it's dangerous for you to be out unaccompanied with Death Eaters and Voldemort," everyone in the courtroom but Harry and Lupin flinched at the name, "on the loose…"

"_Leave it up to Dumbledore to bring that up…_" thought Harry.

"I thought I told you not to express your opinion!" Fudge interrupted.

"Look people," an exasperated Harry cut in, "it's a long story involving a Muggle bus, a moving van, the tops of speeding cars, a broken-down motor-scooter, and a secret passageway. Let's just get on with this okay."

Harry felt strange, different, standing there in front of everyone. He felt, well… some way he'd never felt before… ever. He felt, for the first time in his life, confident… powerful… in control of things.

Umbridge made that annoying little sound, the 'heh, hem' one, and the one she makes every time she opens her trap (her voice), "And what, Mr. Potter, makes you think you are allowed to be in here?"

"One second." Harry turned to Remus, "Professor Lupin, do you mind if I act as your attorney?"

Lupin just shook his head no in disorientation.

"Why the fact that I'm Mr. Lupin's attorney of course!" Harry responded to Umbridge's question.

"You can't be an attorney! You're only fifteen!"

"Ahh, but I am."

"Says who?"

"Say's Professor Lupin."

"I cannot fathom why you call that bloody beast 'professor' as if his opinion actually matters…"

"HE IS NOT A BLOODY BEAST!" Harry's voice was raised now, and it echoed off the walls, "And his opinion does, in fact, matter. It states in the Book of Wizarding Law, page 232, section 5, paragraph 3," Harry could see Percy flipping madly through the courts Book of Wizarding Law, "that the defendant _has_ a right to an attorney."

"He's correct," Percy spoke up from behind the gigantic volume.

"What! Give me that!" Umbridge grabbed the Book of Wizarding Law from the young Weasley and glared at the page as if willing the print to change shape and say '_the defendant has the right to an attorney as long as the defendant is not a werewolf and the attorney is not Harry Potter_', but nothing happened, "But he is not even human! And he can't afford a lawyer!"

"HE IS TOO! And even if he wasn't, it says defendant, not human defendant. Not to mention I'm doing this free of charge…"

Umbridge opened her mouth to rebuttal, but before she could…

"I believe Mr. Potter is right," an angry female voice interrupted from a seat just near Umbridge's, "I suggest we just let him do whatever, unless, of course, you wish to change the law. That could take months, and like Dumbledore said, the Dark Lord is back. In case I'm very much mistaken, the Ministry has better things to do then spend countless hours arguing over a moot point just because some overgrown toad is too stubbornly prejudiced to just let a small, inconsequential thing go!"

"I don't appreciate that comment; you'd do paramount to respect your betters you little bitch!"

"Oh, so now _I'm_ the bitch."

Both women were standing now. The woman arguing with Umbridge was quite pretty. She gave the impression of being in her mid-thirties, had dark chocolate-brown eyes, brown hair with natural blond highlights, and it looked by her tan that she had recently been somewhere with an awful lot of sun.

Fudge cleared his throat, "Dolores, Madame Lafina (A/N pronounced la-fee-na), if you'd just take you seats… Thank you."

"Well then, let's get started," Harry exclaimed a little too enthusiastically for the liking of both Fudge and Umbridge, Dumbledore had retained his calm and placid manner and was now looking extremely amused, Madame Lafina was leaning forward, her face twisted into an interested appearance, completely giving away how enormously intrigued she was with the legendary Boy-Who-Lived, "My first point being that there is absolutely NO rationale in even having this ridiculous trial. Not to mention the defendant is actually allowed to SPEAK IN THEIR OWN DEFENCE. It says so on page 345, section 7, paragraph 2 in the Book of Wizarding Law."

"Correct again. How does he do that?" a bewildered Percy Weasley announced looking up once again from the Book of Wizarding Law.

"Give me that!" An enraged Umbridge grabbed the book from Percy, and, after whacking him on head with it, stared at page 345 as if she wished to tear it out of the book.

Harry had to use a lot of self-control to not just summon the gag from Professor Lupin's mouth with wandless magic. Somehow he managed to contain himself, however, and did it without magic. The silence that hung in the air was quite uncomfortable, everyone, with the exception of Percy who was currently rubbing his head and mouthing the word 'ouch', was either looking intently at Harry, a very cheesed off Fudge, or an even more cheesed off Umbridge.

"You okay Professor?" Harry asked Lupin as he took in a deep breath.

"Yes, Harry, thank you," was the response.

Lupin looked paler then Harry remembered, there was dark circles under his eyes and his graying hair looked a bit frazzled. It appeared Sirius's death had hit him just as hard as it had hit Harry (which was defiantly saying something as Harry was still having great difficulty with both eating and sleeping).

"You shouldn't be here," Lupin continued, "perhaps you should go wait outside…"

"And just leave you here? There's less chance of that then there is the chance of Hell freezing over."

Harry straitened up, "Right, now back to the first fact being of which this trial is pointless. The law saying that werewolves cannot acquire jobs which bring them within ten feet of other people, which, by the way, is also pointless, was not in affect at the time which my client, Mr. Remus J. Lupin, taught at the one Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"But he endangered lives!" shouted Umbridge.

"He did not endanger lives! Lycanthropes are not dangerous except on full moons. Despite what many here like to think, most are merely people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and got bitten by a werewolf who accidentally got loose from wherever they had locked themselves up for the night. Werewolves are not evil, they are not dangerous, they don't deserve the heartless discrimination that _you_ help put them through. I'm now going to question Mr. Lupin on what he did on the full moons while teaching," Harry turned to Remus, "tell me your routine."

"Well…" Remus started, "I would always take the wolfsbane potion a week proceeding the full moon. When t… the… the night came I'd lock myself in my office with a time lock. That way, no one could get in or… out until the next day after I'd transformed back into my… human state. I'd never go to classes on the day before or after the… full moon. Professor Dumbledore made the schedule so I wouldn't miss many of my classes."

Remus seemed to have to choke out many of the words with extreme difficulty. It was blatant that talking about his condition was not his favorite thing in the world. Madame Lafina was gazing at him intently, her 'I Hate Umbridge Level' shooting up at rapid speeds into a galaxy far, far away.

"At this time, I would like to attempt to put everyone here into my clients shoes, figuratively of course. First off, would you mind Professor Lupin, telling us how old you were when you were bitten?"

Lupin looked down at his feet, "I was four," he said, "I'd left my teddy bear outside, and well did what I guess most four-year-olds would have done, went outside to get it. Then… I was… it happened. I nearly died. Wasn't supposed to live past the age of sixteen. Before I went to Hogwarts, I used to sit around, waiting to die. Sometimes wanting to die…"

"I think the world would have been better off if you had died!" Umbridge spat.

Madame Lafina was standing again, "How can you say that! You are so heartless! You're also so lucky this trial isn't for me, because if it was, it would be for murdering you!"

"You know Madame Lafina," Harry grinned at her, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"I do believe so Mr. Potter."

"Call me Harry."

"Then call me Elaina."

"With pleasure. Now if everyone would just imagine they were in the same situation as Mr. Lupin, bitten by a werewolf at a very young age, discriminated against to the degree that you can barely get a job, then, someone gives you an offer. This offer not only includes pay, but the chance that most of the people you're working with won't find out about your condition. What would you do?"

"How should we know," it was Fudge who spoke this time, "We aren't werewolves!"

"But you could be."

"Preposterous!"

"Only for someone as single minded as you." Elaina butted in to the conversation.

Remus was perceptibly self-conscious just sitting there while others argued about his condition. A bit of color shown in his pale face and his eyes were still averted downward.

"Not to mention he was a great Professor," Harry interpolated quickly noticing Remus's discomfort, "at this time I would like to call in some witnesses."

"Witnesses?" Fudge asked, outwardly amused by what Harry had just said, "you can't have had time to gather witnesses."

"Wanna bet?" Harry provoked as he walked over to the door, "YO PEOPLE! EVERYONE WHO WAS TAUGHT BY PROFESSOR LUPIN IN HERE!"

The guards gave very disproving looks as Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny entered the courtroom, all as bewildered as the next person. The girls threw their arms around Harry as they entered.

"Hermione, Ginny, you're strangling me! You guys! NOT HERE!"

The two finally let go of him and Harry could once again breath.

"You're lucky we didn't just strangle you," Ginny told him, "you practically put yourself in mortal danger to come here!"

"I brought my wand."

"I very much doubt," Dumbledore spoke up, "that an underage wizard with a wand would do much to fend off a gang of Death Eaters, and possibly even Voldemort."

"For your information, my wand and I have fended off plenty of Death Eaters _and_ Voldemort in the past. And has it ever occurred to you I may just want Voldemort to find me!"

"You want Voldemort to find you?"

"I'd sure love to give him a piece of my mind."

"But Voldemort…"

"Has crossed the line, and he's kept crossing it. I'd say he's past it by a billion kilometers or so."

"I suggest you finish school first before you decide to go off to fight the most powerful dark wizard in the world."

"And how many people do you think will Voldemort have killed by then? I'm not just going to stand around while innocent people drop like flies. End of discussion."

"Harry…"

"I believe Fudge has ordered you not to express your opinion. I call Hermione Granger to the stand. Why don't you tell us about your third year DADA experience."

"Well…" Hermione started.

She was very pale as was everyone else in the courtroom. No one had ever argued with Professor Dumbledore so vehemently or said Voldemort's name aloud without showing any sign of fear. Even Dumbledore's eyes clouded when he said it. All Harry's eyes had shown was hatred, pure, unmistakable hatred. Even Harry shocked himself a bit.

Hermione continued, "Professor Lupin was a great teacher, we learned more in Defense Against the Dark Arts that year then we had with any other teacher. We had a lot of hands on experience with many different spells and creatures. The final exams were quite challenging. I was top in everything but Defense Against the Dark Arts that year."

Harry then continued to question Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George. After he had, Harry shocked everyone with a sixth witness.

"I would now like to call upon Percy Weasley. Can you, Percy, tell us your opinion on Professor Lupin's teaching?"

"H… he was a very good teacher," Percy answered trying very hard to avoid eye contact with Fudge and Umbridge, "but he still hid the truth about his condition…"

"Would it have made a difference if he hadn't been a lycanthrope?"

"Well… he still…"

"You aren't answering my question Percy."

"But I…"

Percy was looking from Fudge and Umbridge to Harry and Lupin.

"Okay, fine, so it wouldn't have made a difference. And you know what else? He was my favorite teacher, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was my favorite subject that year. Are you happy now?"

"Not really, would you mind elaborating on that."

"Well, Professor Lupin had this… way of connecting with you. If you had difficulties with something, he seemed to understand those difficulties. He gave everyone a chance, first and second ones. And he was patient, very, very patient."

"Wonderful. Well, I guess that's it. So in conclusion, Mr. Lupin did not break the law, endanger, or injure anyone during his short time teaching at Hogwarts. In fact, he was a wonderful Professor who gave everyone he taught a plethora of knowledge. I'll now let the jury take over from here."

"Very well," Fudge replied curtly to Harry's conclusion, "whoever believes that Remus J. Lupin should be cleared of all charges, please raise your hand…"

* * *

**Next Chapter:** We find out the result of the trial, Harry gets pissed at someone, the mirror goes haywire some more, and Elaina Lafina cordially invites us to her office for a spot of tea and a very intriguing proposition. 

**Includes:**

The Department of Mystery's

Percy bashing

Dangerous flying teacups

**Questions/Comments:** Email me: (link on my author page)


	4. Mirrored

Defending the Light

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, all I own is an action figure my family got me as a joke but I adore anyway and a few cheap posters.

* * *

_"Very well," Fudge replied curtly to Harry's conclusion, "whoever believes that Remus J. Lupin should be cleared of all charges, please raise your hand…" _

Chapter 4: Mirrored 

Harry found himself nervous for the first time since the trial began. He knew for a fact that Umbridge and Fudge had not done this for the purpose of justice, but to make a point. A point that all halfbreeds are scum that is. And he would've bet all his gold in Gringotts that they had paid off the majority of the Wizengamot.

And oh how right he was.

The hands went up and Harry frantically tried to count them. "_One… two… seven… twelve… TWELVE! Is that enough? How many people are in a Wizengamot trial again? Good Lord I can't remember! Calm yourself Potter. OH! I studied the Book of Wizarding Law cover-to-cover for this. And now I… oh yeah, I remember now. There are precisely twenty-five members at each hearing. Wait a second!"_

Harry felt the blood drain from his face, twelve out of twenty-five was NOT a good number. They were going to convict Lupin!

Fudge looked very smug, obviously thinking the same thing as Harry, "and those in favor of conviction?"

Harry absentmindedly counted the hands in the air, "_One… two… seven… twelve… TWELVE! Wait a minute…"_

"Well, well, well…" he said aloud, "It appears we have one less vote. For a Wizengamot vote to be legal there must be twenty-five people."

"Says who," Umbridge asked icily.

"Says the Book of Wizarding Law page 522, section 9, paragraph 7," Harry responded going into defense mode again.

"Right again," Percy added covering his head protectively in case Umbridge decided to whack it again.

"So now what?" asked Fudge, "As the Minister of Magic, perhaps my point of view should be taken in this…"

"And break the law, just when I thought you could sink no lower," Elaina Lafina once again cut into the conversation. "The public will riot against you if you do…"

Harry cleared his throat, "Actually, the law states that the member of the Wizengamot closest to the trial, no matter who it is, must cast the final vote in the case that there is a person less."

No one even bothered checking the Book of Wizarding Law. It would just infuriate Umbridge more by seeing it in print.

"Fine," said Fudge, "just fine! But where are we going to find a twenty-fifth member to…"

He was cut short as Dumbledore cleared his throat and Harry rolled his eyes at the comment. Dumbledore stood up.

"I will side with Mr. Lupin and his attorney on this case," he announced, "I believe the court should now be adjourned."

Quite a few people looked furious, but they had no choice but to comply. The chains released Lupin, who looked immensely relieved, and everyone started exiting the courtroom. Only Percy hung back to gather his things. Harry decided to hang back with him.

Percy sneered, "You could have cost me my job."

Once again, Harry felt himself overflow with anger.

"And that's all you care about isn't it," he replied vehemently, "your job, your reputation, you. And you don't care how many people you have to step on to get to the top, even if it's your own family. Well let me tell you this, you're damn lucky to even have a family who cares. A family that, no matter what you do, will still love you and keep trying to contact you even when you slam the door in their faces, a family that still sends you a sweater every Christmas even though you send it back. Some people would kill for that! I would kill for that! Do you know who I have? No one! My aunt and uncle don't count 'cause you know what? They don't care about me, they _wish_ I would up and leave them, they think I'm a freak, a menace to society! You actually have a family who cares, and how do you repay them for always being there? By breaking their hearts, that's how! And Professor Lupin, you know he's not evil, and you were perfectly willing to lie about him just because of your job! You could have sentenced an innocent man to Azkaban, which would have killed him after the first few full moons. That's murder Percy, and you know it. Just think about what I said - okay?"

And with that Harry turned tail and left, leaving behind a very stunned and guilt-ridden Percy.

Upon entering the corridor outside Harry was met with a frenzy of panicked voices.

"Where's Harry?"

"I thought he was with you."

"I thought he was with Dumbledore."

"Oh my God! He's been kidnapped by You-Know-Who!"

"Molly calm down."

"I can't lose him! This is entirely my fault!"

"Shut up you bloody werewolf, hyperventilating will not help this situation. He's probably run off again."

"He's been kidnapped!"

"He's probably dead!"

"What if they're torturing him!"

"Someone call an Auror!"

"Um… you are an Auror."

"Oh, right."

"Someone inform the Daily Prophet!"

"Someone…"

"You guys I'm right here!" Harry interrupted.

Everyone turned around and stared before all rushing forward and pulling him into a massive hug.

"_I see they're all happy the weapon isn't gone,"_ Harry thought sarcastically.

When everyone had finally said hi and moved back a bit, Harry found himself faced with his ex-professor.

"Thank you Harry…" he started, "so much. I owe you my life I'm sure… I wouldn't have lasted in Azkaban… I… I don't know how I'll ever repay you… I…"

Lupin's voice broke, he didn't cry or anything just kind of broke, went silent.

"I didn't… It was nothing really… I don't deserve any of what you said… I mean… how could I not have come… they probably wouldn't have convicted you anyway… and you have nothing to repay me for. Free of charge remember?" Harry managed a weak smile.

He had gone very red and all of the power and confidence he had felt before was gone. He was himself again. _Oh joy_…

"Actually, you're wrong," it was Elaina Lafina who spoke, "I have no solid proof, but I know for a fact that that Umbridge cow paid off way more people then that. It appears you opened up quite a few consciences back there. I was wondering if you, Mr. Lupin, and Professor Dumbledore would like to come to my office for a cup of tea."

"Um… I'd be obliged Madam Lafina, but I'm afraid I must get back to my aunt and uncle's house."

"And how, Potter, do you think you are going to accomplish that?" asked Snape menacingly.

"Er… well I'm out of Muggle money for the bus, so I guess I'll be running quite a bit today… but don't worry," he added quickly seeing the disbelieving faces, "I like running, been doing it every day, helps me relieve stress. And I might hitchhike some too…"

"You will do nothing of the sort," Dumbledore stated, "I suggest you thank Miss Lafina's invitation then come with us so we can find a way to get you back to your home. And have a meeting perhaps."

Harry shrugged, "OK. Hope I don't get into anyone's way."

"We'll meet you there, mate," Ron said trying to be reassuring.

"Are you sure you want me to come along?" Lupin asked Elaina, surprised she wished him to be anywhere near her, "I'd understand perfectly if you don't want me…"

"Nonsense," Elaina replied, "this whole thing must have been a terrible ordeal for you. The least I can do is offer some hospitality."

Harry had a feeling hospitality was not the only reason Elaina had invited them to her office. He also had a very warm feeling on his back. As if his backpack had an electric blanket in it or something.

"_Odd,_" he thought before following Lupin and Dumbledore to Elaina's office.

When in the office, Harry found it rather nice. It had an extensive picture window and a large desk covered with an assortment of paperwork. Elaina didn't seem like a very organized person, she simply magiced everything into a huge, randomly arranged pile and shoved it into a file cabinet.

"Soooo… take a seat why don't you," she said, pointing to three chairs in front of her desk before walking over to a fireplace and putting a kettle over it, "hope you don't mind tea bags, they're all I really keep around."

"No, no, of course not," Remus answered as Elaina took a seat at her desk, facing them, "and I don't believe I've thanked you for taking my side so… fervently. I hope it won't give you a bad rep with Fudge…"

"Mr. Lupin…"

"Call me Remus."

"Well then Remus, let me first assure you that my reputation with the Minister was never good, but he knows very well that if he so much as mentions sacking me he will lose the support of the Lafina's, which is something he could really use at the moment. Little does our inadequate tyrant know, however, he's already lost it. Never really had it to begin with," Lafina grinned, "and as for taking your side, well… it was the right thing to do wasn't it? Though, I did get a bit out of hand when it came to insulting Umbridge."

"At least you didn't bust out of a broom closet acting like you owned the place, yell at the top of your lungs, yell at Dumbledore," he turned to Dumbledore, "sorry, and totally, like, I don't know what happened… does it feel warm in here to you guys?" Harry asked.

"I don't think so," Elaina said before Lupin or Dumbledore could respond, "Um… look, what I brought you all in here for, well, it was more then hospitality really. I know you," she looked Dumbledore in the eye, "have some sort of, secret, group, or, order, that opposes both the Ministry and Voldemort."

"I do, now do I?" Dumbledore questioned a mischievous twinkle alight in his eye.

"Don't play games with me, OK? We all know I have a short temper." She snapped, "I want in."

There was a dead silence in the room, and then:

"I think we can arrange that, don't you Remus?"

Remus just nodded, smiling slightly at the taken aback look on Elaina's face.

"You're just going to let me in, just like that?"

"I do believe so Miss Lafina; you may attend our meeting tonight. And now that that is through, Harry, believe me when I say you did wonderfully in your case. And I forgive you for the yelling, next time I will remember not to contradict you when you are in a particularly commanding mood."

Harry still didn't agree with Dumbledore, and wasn't too sorry about what he'd said. (Why was he feeling so warm?) He wanted to tell Dumbledore 'I'm still right and you're still wrong' but he didn't want to get into another argument, so he simply asked:

"Commanding?"

"But of course," Lupin said, "you were excellent. And, need I say it again, saved my life. At one point I started thinking you were an angel…" he joked.

Harry laughed out loud at this; it was just too ridiculous…

"W… what kind of wacky angel would I be?"

"About as wacky as your father and Sirius I imagine," Remus grinned, though the grin faltered as he mentioned Sirius, "Can you imagine those two in halos?"

"Sirius… That's it!" Harry suddenly exclaimed causing everyone to jump.

The teacup Elaina was levitating towards him leapt to, cracking on his head. Harry, however, ignored it and pulled the mirror out of his backpack. It radiated heat and glowed with such a prosperous amount light it nearly blinded him. Harry started walking, not on his own though, the mirror was pulling him, leading him on. He felt like a zombie as he let the mirror's force overtake him and lead him to wherever it was pulling him to. Harry started to dash down the halls, the mirror's force was pulling harder and he had to run to keep up. He could hear footsteps behind him, but he didn't stop, he _couldn't_ stop. He came to a corridor, an all too familiar one: The Department of Mysteries.

He felt a spell being shot at him to try and make him stop, but he easily blocked it with wandless magic. To others, it may have looked as though the spell just bounced off of him without him even doing anything. Harry simply kept running through the doors, each one opening as he went, and just as he had done so many times in his visions that year, went purposefully. Only this time, he didn't stop by the prophesies, this time, Harry Potter found himself less then a foot away from the veil...

* * *

**Next Chapter Includes:**

An angry Snape

More about Elaina

A telephone call to the Dursley's

The mirror

**Questions/Comments:** Email me: (link on my author page)


	5. Information Overload

Defending the Light

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, leave me alone.

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_Only this time, he didn't stop by the prophesies, this time, Harry Potter found himself less then a foot away from the veil... _

Chapter 5: Information Overload 

"Harry stop!" Dumbledore's voice echoed somewhere in his head.

He tried to concentrate on it, pulling himself into reality, or trying to. Harry felt as if he were being ripped apart, one side of him wanted to keep going, obeying the command that the mirror was sending to him, the other half tried to stop. It was the strangest thing he had ever felt, and that was saying something, like he was two people instead of one. With the Imperius Curse, he had been arguing with himself. This time it was more so two parts fighting themselves, but he was both parts, and both parts were getting tired, weakening themselves in the ongoing war inside him, weakening him.

Then, it stopped. His vision was very blurred and slowly coming into focus, and he became mildly aware that someone was shaking him._ But who? _Long beard, half-moon glasses… oh yeah, Dumbledore. He looked uneasy. _I wonder if that's a first. He still doesn't look panicked, never does._ Harry dropped the mirror, its temperature felt soft and serene compared to the scorching heat from earlier on. A rush of cold air hit him, and all the heat that had radiated through him seemed to leave, forcing him into a shock wave of convulsion and tremors.

"H… Harry?" it was Lupin who spoke this time.

_Why was he kneeling on the floor_? It was only then that Harry realized he was kneeling as well.

"I… I'm okay…" Harry stuttered rather unconvincingly, "What a day this is turning out to be, huh. Ha, ha, ha… ouch!"

Dumbledore had grabbed him and pulled him roughly to his feet, Harry felt extremely dizzy as he stood. His day was definitely not over yet.

"Come, quickly, before Voldemort manages to possess you again." Dumbledore said hurriedly while turning his pocket watch into a portkey.

"Voldemort? But that…" before Harry could finish his sentence, he felt an all too familiar jerk on his naval as he, Lupin, Dumbledore, and Elaina were thrown into a void of swirling colors, only to land in one of his least favorite places.

Yep, you guessed correctly. The foursome found themselves in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place. And upon seeing a pale but strangely calm and extremely annoyed Harry, a frightened werewolf, a confused ministry employee, and a much perplexed (but as usual never panicky) Dumbledore; needless to say, Molly Weasley immediately went into 'motherly-panic-mode'.

"What happened! Harry, you look pale, dear. Sit down. I knew something like this would happen! Tea, Harry dear? I thought you of all people, Albus, would be able to stop incidents like these, but no… What did happen by the way?"

Dumbledore paused before saying something Harry really wished he hadn't, "Harry was possessed by Lord Voldemort who tried to force him to walk through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries."

Just as expected, panic broke out among the Order members gathered around the huge dining table. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins who were there as well were among those all started talking frantically at once.

"But… I… it's not what you… can't you just… is anyone even paying attention to me?" Harry tried to get others to listen to him but to no avail.

Harry soon tired of trying, his head was still spinning and the talking all seemed to blend together into a sea of pointless noise. And he was drowning in it. As the noise started to numb his brain and put his train of thought to a screeching halt, he found he had no choice but to attempt to do what had worked so well at the trial earlier that day…

"I WAS NOT POSSESSED BY LORD VOLDEMORT!"

A very loud silence and much twitching followed that statement. Harry felt incredibly self-conscious as he struggled to get over the shock of the immediate silence that had hit him as hard as a minor stunning spell normally would have.

"Then who else do you suggest forced you to nearly kill yourself?" Dumbledore asked skeptically, straightening his glasses in what Harry assumed was supposed to be a very wise manner.

"Not Voldemort," Harry answered recovering immediately and straightening his own glasses out of spite, "when he possesses me, I can tell."

"Then how…?"

"I'm not sure," Harry cut the Headmaster off before he could begin interrogating him, "but I know it has something to do with this."

Harry held up the mirror. It had cooled down and glinted eerily in the candlelight, leaving Harry to wish fervently that wizards knew more about electricity then what was taught in Muggle Studies.

"Then get rid of it, quickly," Snape replied in his usual manner, looking at Harry as if he had just missed the most obvious point in the world.

"No!" said Harry, pulling it towards him, "It was only trying to help, it didn't know it was…"

He stopped short as he noticed everyone was staring at him… again. _What is so interesting about me anyway_ Harry thought to himself as he bit his lip in annoyance with his new-found tendency to say exactly what he was thinking. Hell, even he didn't know he was thinking _that_ until he had said it. What was wrong with him?

"You and I will discuss those matters later," Dumbledore cut into the quiet, "For now, the meeting must proceed."

"And we're allowed in it?" asked Ron in disbelief.

"Just this once will be OK," answered Dumbledore, "Now…"

"Before we go off inviting Potter to… meetings, don't you think I'd be best to make sure he has mastered Occlumency first?" said Snape interrupted menacingly before Dumbledore could go on.

The Headmaster looked ready to either agree or contradict Snape, no one could tell (then again, it's always hard to tell what Dumbledore's thinking), when Harry broke in, "I can do Occlumency fine!"

"Yeah, sure," Snape retorted with a silky sneer, "How many times have you said that, and how many more Order members are going to die because of it?"

"Severus…" Dumbledore warned.

But Snape paid no heed, his eyes glinted forebodingly and a sneer crossed his face as he glared at Harry with tremendous amounts of loathing.

"You think you're so good? Block this!"

Snape sent a very strong Legilimens charm Harry's way, but this time, Harry was ready. He had practiced in his own way how to block people from his mind. The spell had no effect whatsoever on him no matter how hard Snape tried. Harry, furious, had to resist all temptation to throw his mind into Snape's, get the most embarrassing memory he had, and use it as blackmail. He, to the astonishment of himself, found himself secretly curious as to whether or not his dad had removed Snape's boxers that one time…

Then, Harry accidentally put too much power into blocking the curse and sent Snape reeling against the wall. Everyone, including Dumbledore and Snape, were staring at him in amazement. _This_, he thought, _cannot be good…_

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.

"_I really wish she hadn't asked that,"_ Harry thought, shoveling his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from messing with his hair (a nervous habit he'd required for some odd reason). Not only would Lupin probably suspect something, but Snape would most likely never let him live it down._ "Then again, someone would have. At least there wasn't that long silence this time… I wish I had my wand to blame this on, but it's in the backpack. If only I had it… hey!"_

Harry's wand had suddenly appeared in his pocket, and he withdrew it in stunned awe.

"I guess I just unintentionally channeled the magic through my wand, I was making contact with it through a hole in the pocket of my jeans." Harry lied (though not about the hole on the inside of his pocket), all the while thinking, _"Yeah right Potter, like you need a wand to channel magic through. How do I lie like that? Hopefully no one will be too suspicious and merely believe I can just do magic without an incantation…"_

"Didn't you block that hex in the Department of Mysteries," asked Elaina, looking just a little less confused, but confused none the less, "the one Dumbledore sent your way?"

"It was the mirror," Harry fudged yet again, "I'm not sure why but…"

"What I am impressed about, more so then the fact you don't need an incantation to do magic, something I have suspected for quite a time now, is the fact you know the main idea of magic." Dumbledore interrupted, looking around at those around him. "The idea that you need to channel it from places, for magic is everywhere. You also seem well aware that to channel the magic, you must posses an instrument in which to channel it through, and though it would have been easier to hold that instrument, it appears you were able to, by merely touching it, make it work for you."

"It only happens when I'm really mad," Harry explained his case, "that's the only time I'm able to draw magic to myself."

"To yourself," Ron interrupted, "I thought you draw it to your wand?"

"On the contraire, Mr. Weasley, the magic comes through your wand and in to you, then back out again. The more powerful you are, the more magic you can draw into yourself. This is all a very complex, and very new, theory, and is currently being studied in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore took it upon himself to inform them.

"And wandless magic…" Hermione questioned.

Harry, suddenly, as if fueled with strong caffeine, had grown restless, and tired of forcing the meeting to be even more so belated, immediately spoke up before the Headmaster could get a word in edgewise. "Wizards can only do wandless magic when they have ultimately gained so much power they can channel magic through themselves without need of any type of instrument in which to channel it through."

He said it all so quickly everyone stared in shock. Hermione looked to Dumbledore for conformation, and, in the brief glance she gave, he understood and nodded his head.

"What about when you let loose a boa constrictor on your cousin?" asked Ron, "You didn't have a wand then."

Once again, Harry found himself the objective of many a stare "I can speak parseltounge, hello," Harry teased, "complained about Dudley to it and when this guy went in to feed it, it escaped and gave him a scare for me, then it headed of to Brazil or something."

Everyone finally looked as though they understood, in a strange, confused sort of way. Harry remembered how long it had taken him to put all the pieces together. He had, after all, gotten in trouble for the wandless magic he had done in his third year. But that had been the Muggle protection laws. Living with a wizard, the Dursley's were an exception, but Aunt Marge was defiantly not. After Ministry wizards arrived and discovered Harry missing, everyone broke into such a frenzy, nobody bothered to notice the only underage magic he did that was recorded was a simple 'Lumos' charm, or so Harry figured. The reason he had gotten in trouble in his second year was easier to figure out. A quick note to Dobby was all it took to discover that the sneaky little elf had used the power of his wand mixed with a bit of elf magic for the main purpose of getting him expelled. He also learned exactly how long Dobby had stuck his fingers in the oven after the pudding episode. _'Some house elves,'_ he thought_, 'need serious therapy.'_

"Well then," Molly Weasley stood up, "now that we have that little confusion cleared up, why not have something to eat. It's past 2 o'clock and I don't believe Harry has had a decent lunch as of yet."

"But… the meeting," Harry cut in. He could go without food (he did live with the Dursley's after all), but right now he felt as though he couldn't go another moment without having his questions answered.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, "you must eat something. I'm getting a feeling you haven't been as interested in food lately as you should be."

Harry groaned, but he knew Dumbledore was right. He thought back to his breakfast… nothing. Maybe food wouldn't be that bad. A few people got up to help Mrs. Weasley get some food on the table, and soon everyone was eating and talking. Harry soon found random people had taken it upon themselves to serve him, and his plate was overflowing with mountains of sandwiches, potatoes, fish, chips… _'And practically everything but the kitchen sink,'_ thought Harry as he stared down at his plate contemplating just exactly why he could lie so well. It felt so wrong, and he wanted to tell someone, or at least his subconscious him wanted to. Or maybe it didn't. Or maybe…

"_Oh what the heck,"_ Harry mused, _"I'll figure this all out eventually. For now, no one has to know any of what's happening to me."_

"_There you go again,"_ whispered a little voice inside his head, _"thinking you know exactly what you're doing. Thinking you're smart enough to handle everything…"_

"_Shut up."_ He thought back to himself.

"…_When you know you're nothing but a weapon. A rather malfunctioning one at that, I must say. Couldn't even stop some pathetic nine-fingered wimp from turning that disgusting deformed baby into a killing machine…"_

"_Shut up."_ If Harry had been speaking, his voice would have sounded quite downtrodden.

"…_And don't tell me you've forgotten what REALLY happened in the chamber of secrets, you know, after you practically gave Riddle your wand…"_

"_I said, err… thought… shut up…"_

"…_Not to mention you killed your godfather…"_

"Can't I leave myself alone for one bloody second…?" Harry mumbled as he unconsciously played with his food, stabbing at it rather dynamically.

Seeing as Ron and Hermione, where looking at him worriedly, though obviously trying to give him space, Harry managed a weak smile and a small bite of a club sandwich. It tasted dry in his mouth and stuck to his throat, so he quickly swallowed some water and observed those around him, trying to get his mind off things.

Dumbledore was talking to a group of people about who knows what. Fred and George were talking animatedly to Bill and Charlie along with some others about Quidditch; Ginny was trying to butt in. Lupin and a few others were laughing about something Elaina had just said, and Moody was eyeing her suspiciously. Everyone else was just talking to each other and eating, all, if only for a moment, forgetting about the meeting, forgetting about Death Eaters, maybe even forgetting about Voldemort. But Harry couldn't forget. The feeling tugged on his mind at all times. He wished he had his broom so he could just fly away from it all; _curse that law banning flying in Muggle areas during the daytime. _

Suddenly, the Headmaster cleared his throat and everyone looked up, memories of what was yet to arrive coming back to each of them.

With a swift, almost anxious glance at Harry's still full plate, Albus Dumbledore stood up and began the meeting. "Welcome everyone, to this gathering of the Order of the Phoenix. I would first like to introduce our newest member, Elaina Lafina."

There was a scattered clapping before Moody asked with vigor, "Has she been interrogated?"

"No," replied Dumbledore as if it were the simplest matter in the world.

Many an Order member raised their eyebrows.

"Why," asked Moody, "have you just let someone in without thorough interrogation with Veritaserum and…"

"I have my reasons," replied Dumbledore. "Now Harry, is there anything you would like to ask before we discuss that little mirror mishap and inform Miss Lafina of all the goings on around here?"

"Yes, actually, what's he up to." Harry asked, looking Dumbledore straight in the eye, "I know he's up to something. He's been up to it since last year, at first I thought it was the prophecy, but it's not. Because he was still searching for it even after the prophecy was destroyed. S… Sirius mentioned it a long time ago, _'a weapon, something he can only get be stealth,'_ he said. If the prophecy wasn't the weapon, what is? What is he still searching for after all this time?"

Elaina leaned forward in her seat expectantly, as did Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The rest of the Order started whispering to one another till the room was buzzing loudly as a beehive normally would have. The Headmaster, ignoring Kingsley Shacklebolt's attempts at communication with him, appeared to be deep in thought.

"I guess there's no hiding it from you any longer," said Dumbledore suddenly, startling everyone. "Perhaps there never was a reason to hide it from you. Perhaps there was, for reasons not yet explained. Perhaps that reason has passed. Perhaps it has not. Only time will truly tell." He cleared his throat, "There is a book, a book of spells, potions, and other ancient forms of magic little known throughout history, and completely forgotten in the precious cycle of age. The book is rumored to be as ancient as time itself, and was supposedly written be the most conversant, powerful wizards and witches in history who wrote it to be used for the power of good.

But now it is hidden, for though a useful tool in the hands of the forces of love, in the hands of the forces of evil, it did not fare well at all. When the book was recovered and brought back to the Light, so many innocents were left dead, that those in charge of it hid it away. Currently, no one knows where it is. Voldemort has been looking for it since a few years before his first downfall. It was no threat back then, but this time we have justification to believe he has gained new knowledge of it's whereabouts.

Now we must find that book before he does. And believe me, we have searched everywhere. But still we cannot find it. However, we suspect it lies somewhere in South America."

"Well at least you have an idea where it is," Hermione said softy, as if in awe of the idea of so much information hidden away from her curious mind.

"If only the Dark Lord didn't know that as well," Snape replied sarcastically.

"And if only the whole blasted continent wasn't so damn large," Moody added gruffly to the Potion's Professor's comment.

Apparently sarcasm is contagious, for Tonk's added in a very annoyed sounding, "Don't be too cheerful about the situation, guys. You may end up giving everyone false hope."

"That is enough Nymphadora," Tonk's eye twitched at the mention of her first name, "Is that all you would like to know Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore questioned Harry.

Harry was going to reply 'yes' then decided against it, "No. No, that is not all I wish to know. I want to know the rest of the prophecy."

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore replied calmly.

"You said it said how to kill me. What I heard of it, it said nothing of the sort." Harry answered, "So tell me. What will be my downfall if Voldemort wins this little battle for justice… or the world… or whatever we're fighting for?"

"The prophecy… but wasn't it destroyed," Hermione asked looking from Harry to Dumbledore as if watching a tennis match.

"Excuse us for a moment," was all Dumbledore said in response to the gaping Order members.

With that, the old wizard got up, walked over to Harry, pointed his wand upward, and muttered an incantation. Immediately a dark-blue transparent dome swept over them blocking out all sound in the room, and hiding them almost completely except for their shadows.

"I guess you can know now," he said, all the while conjuring a chair for himself and turning Harry's chair to face him using his wand.

"And why," asked Harry, "did you decide not to tell me this certain part of the prophecy until I brought it upon myself to ask you about it?"

"Because, Mr. Potter, you were in enough pain already that night. In fact you are still in much pain over the ordeal you faced a mere few weeks ago. I did not want to hurt you further."

"So you're saying I'm weak, saying I can't handle it?"

"Harry…"

"When exactly were you planning on telling me anyway? Were you ever? Or were you just going to keep putting it off because I'm too young, or too grief-stricken, or too happy…"

"Harry!" Dumbledore finally snapped, "I have explained my case, now please, tell me how you knew."

"Knew what?"

"That there was a second part to the prophecy."

Harry sighed, "I've told you already. It didn't have the answer about how to kill me, and… I felt there was something missing in it… when I first heard it. But I didn't think much about it then."

"You, child," Harry flinched at being called a child, "have a magnificent intuition. Now answer me this: _How did you know Voldemort was planning something?_"

"Before I mastered Occlumency over the summer, I could sense him. Enough to know he was looking for something. Can we stop stalling now?"

"We can stop stalling now."

Harry took an intake of breath. His feelings were scattered throughout his mind. Anticipation. Dread. Anger. Resentment. Resolution…

"The prophecy also says this," Dumbledore announced before reciting:

_The Dark Lord, if defeated, will be taken by a curse,_

_The Savior, if defeated, will go in a way much worse,_

_For if the Savior fails and falls,_

_They shall be taken by their heart,_

_The will to go on will die from them,_

_And after that:_

_The entire world shall be ripped apart." _

Dumbledore then raised his wand and took down the translucent dome he had set around them. Harry just sat there staring blankly, his mind whirling. It wasn't exactly a surprise to hear it, but still…

"Excuse me for a second," Harry said politely as he got out of his chair and promptly walked into a closet.

The Order just looked at each other in silence before hearing a muffled, "Argh!" from inside of the closet.

Harry soon emerged taking some very deep breaths.

"_Let me get this straight._ _Not only, does the fate of the whole damn world rest on my shoulders, which makes the odds for the 'Light' as you call it, bad enough, but all Voldemort has to do to basically conquer everything is get his hands on a book and do something to me he's starting to really get good at."_ Harry tried to get his thoughts straight, all the information he was trying to process was overwhelming him and bringing his mind into overload.

Harry was angry. And that was pretty much all there was to it. Angry at Dumbledore for keeping so much from him and still labeling him a child, angry at the Order for agreeing with him, angry at the world that rested in the fate of his hands, but most of all he was just seething mad at Voldemort. _And why did everything always have to happen to him?_

No one else knew what to say, they all just sat in silence.

Ronald Weasley watched his best friend cautiously. Maybe Hermione was right about trying to talk to him; but he'd thought perhaps Harry had just needed some space for a while. He had been pretty depressed after Sirius's death and he'd just had a near-death experience himself, after all. You just don't bring that kind of stuff up in normal conversation, do you?

"_Oh well,"_ Ron thought despondently to himself, _"looks like just another time where I prove to Hermione how incredibly naïve I am."_

He couldn't help thinking how lucky Harry was though. _He knows how to impress girls, has tons of cash, and always gets to be in the spotlight_. Ron felt a bit guilty about thinking like that though, what did he know? He was only the sidekick…

There was a sudden thud that brought a halt to Ron's thoughts as Harry banged his head against the mirror lying in front of him in frustration. Then, it started happening again. The mirror was glowing. Harry felt no pull this time though, and then it stopped and became a normal mirror again. At least that's what he thought. Then, looking down at his reflection, he realized it wasn't really his reflection. Sure it looked like him, but the person in the mirror was a few years older, the glasses were definitely not his, the eyes were hazel, and there was something that just wasn't right about the facial features. Harry gasped before exclaiming in a very choked-up kind of voice:

"_Dad!"_

"Oh thank Merlin I got through to you, I was beginning to worry that the chance of someone answering me was as slim as the chance that Snape and Moldy-Shorts will decide to go metro-sexual on us…"

* * *

**Next Chapter Includes:**

What the hell just happened

The usefulness of Elvin rope

Wisecracks

Overprotective werewolves

Umbridge bashing

**Questions/Comments:** Email me: (link on my author page)


	6. The Unexpected Arrivals

Defending the Light

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be in a mansion with my own laptop writing something I could actually get money for.

* * *

"_Dad!"_

"_Oh thank Merlin I got through to you, I was beginning to worry that the chance of someone answering me was as slim as the chance that Snape and Moldy-Shorts will decide to go metro-sexual on us…"_

Chapter 6: The Unexpected Arrivals

Everyone could do nothing but widen their eyes in shock. A creeping silence filled the room as all eyes turned to Harry and the mirror. Seconds that seemed like hours passed by until, surprisingly, the two most unlikely people cut into the subdued atmosphere.

For one, Lupin started chanting repetitively "It can't, it can't be," as if his sanity depended on it and Harry… started laughing? He didn't know why, but he did. Laughter filled him and he didn't know if he could stop. It was all rather creepy actually.

"I'm…" more laughter, "sorry…," he just managed to choke out, "but I think I may be suffering from a severe case of insanity."

"Don't suffer from insanity," the voice from the mirror came again, "I enjoy it."

Lupin's eyes widened rapidly and his repetitive chanting was cut short as he let out a slightly startled, slightly awed, "It is!" and in one swift motion, leaped over the table to stand behind Harry.

"Hey Moony," James said happily, sounding as if his birthday had come early, "so did I come in the middle of an Order meeting or what?"

"Um… this is an Order meeting…" Harry felt exceedingly strange, but fought to keep his cool, "I hope I don't sound rude or anything, but… er… aren't you dead? And… am I really talking to you or have I finally cracked?"

But instead of a response from his father, a women's voice came from the mirror, "James! If you can't talk to Harry without making him believe he's sane, give the mirror to me and let me explain!" James obviously had no chance to do anything, much less give her the mirror, before it was grabbed from him and the face of Lily Evans Potter appeared, "Hello Harry. Don't worry; we're just in an alternate dimensional element linking two individual realms of reality: the corporal, or mortal, realm and the spirit realm."

"No offense Lil," it was Lupin who spoke this time, like Harry, keeping his wildly scattered emotions in check, "but that information doesn't seem particularly reassuring. And, well, why are you there anyway? What's going on?"

"And what is with that mirror," Dumbledore added, "It nearly forced Harry to walk through some veil in the Department of Mysteries that leads who-knows-where?"

Lily paled immediately and James gave a startled, "WHAT!"

"Er… Mum… Dad…," Merlin, it felt weird saying that, "it's OK, I…"

"No, it's not OK," James answered fiercely, "You've had enough near death experiences to last lifetimes!"

"And speaking of lifetimes," Lily added, "when your lifetime is up, you are so grounded. And that had better not be for a while! The mirror has been going haywire, being stuck in a different dimension and all, I have no idea what happened."

"No time to ponder on it now," James's face had replaced Lily's in the mirror, "the reason we need to talk to you is of the utmost importance. The 'veil', as you call it, is actually a portal to this dimension, a dimension dividing the mortal and the spirit world. And Sirius is stuck in it."

The amount of stress in his voice spoke volumes.

"Stuck? What do you mean stuck? S… Sirius is dead… he… Wh… I'm confused."

"So were we," James said. "Mortals are not supposed to be in this thing, and if they wander into it, their soul either pulls them toward the light," James made a motion to the right," or further down into darkness," he motioned to the left. "It depends on the person really."

"Then why didn't Sirius, well… do that?" Harry's brain felt as if it had been put into a blender and put on the setting: 'liquefy'.

"Because Sirius was trying to get out, his want to get back to you must have been so powerful he refused to give in to fate. Sirius's soul wanted to get back to Earth and it overpowered it's instincts to sink into the Spirit world. I think that, combined with the fact that it was not his time is the reason his soul hasn't led him anywhere. That it's not his time is also the reason why we were allowed to get ourselves into this situation in the first place. Not to mention Sirius has just collapsed; soul and all. If someone doesn't get him out of this mess, he may remain unconscious for eternity!"

"Which is why you were sent to retrieve him and bring him towards the light, weren't you Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore stated more then asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well… yeah… but see, when we found the mirror we realized that there might be a chance to save him yet. We've been watching you guys, and, well, Harry needs him."

"But how do we get him back? How? We can't just walk into that veil and hope nobody dies!" Lupin asked skeptically, his steady voice cracking slightly.

"Well I can…" Harry started to butt in before James interrupted.

"Harry whatever you were just going to say, I don't want to here it. Remus is right. You can't just walk into this place. You have to be prepared. You see, the only way to be able to protect yourself from being sucked into death and find your way out of this hellhole is by using this certain rope."

"Rope?"

"Rope, Elvin rope. But not just that. To be able to get in and out, you must have _enchanted_ Elvin rope, the kind made from the wood of the magic trees, Mananaconal. The ones grown in the hands of nymphs. Don't ask. The stuff can somehow resist the atmosphere here and stop the veil-thing from keeping you in."

"And where," asked Professor McGonagall stiffly, "are we going to get that?"

"I have some," Dumbledore announced indifferently as though stating he liked a good spot of tea. "I left it in the hands of my brother Aberforth for safe keeping. I must pay him a visit."

McGonagall blended in perfectly with the other shocked faces in the room, but she was, as Harry was about to discover, shocked for a whole other reason, "Aberforth! You gave rare Elvin rope to Aberforth!"

"Elves actually exist? And I thought Albus was joking about that…"

"That's not the point Kingsley! The point is that once again Albus has put important matters into the hands of…" Dumbledore's look cut her off, but she continued mumbling something incomprehensible to most about stones, waterfalls, and flying motorcycles.

"Well," James cleared his throat, "that's basically it then. Only you have to meet us down here, we've got Sirius with us now. We'd like to meet you at the entrance; it'd make things so much easier. But once past a certain point, souls that have already passed on can only go so far. And that's what we are, souls, just souls in the form of what we once were. It's so much easier," he continued, "being dead then it is being alive, so don't anybody start worrying about us. It's just hard sometimes, to see those who suffer down on earth and know you can't do anything about it. I'm not permitted to tell you anymore about death than that."

It took a while for what James had said to sink in. Harry just sat there, letting his father's words wash over him like waves onto a shore. But however calming the waves of his voice, which was probably the only reason he wasn't freaking out and screaming his head off right now, Harry was sure of one thing: these waves were pulling him closer and closer to deep water, and he was willing to ride them there and back again to make things right. He just hoped he wasn't going to let himself get caught up in the undertow. He vaguely contemplated how Dumbledore had acquired merchandise from a group of people not even high-ranking Ministry officials knew existed. But then again, he was Dumbledore, and he was also infuriatingly calm and mysterious. Furthermore, he gave off such an aura of knowing more then he let on that Harry had to work very hard to keep himself completely placid. Harry didn't want to explode in case the man said something that wouldn't agree with him at all when he opened his to ask the question that had been tugging at his mind since he had found out Sirius was alive. He just had to be calm… cool… collected…

"So… can I go?"

"No."

"WHY IN THE BLOODY HELL NOT?"

Well, so much for being calm, cool, and collected. Why couldn't he just control his bloody temper?

"Harry, calm down," James said, making Harry go a bit red. "And Albus, I disagree with you," Harry's eyes widened. Was his father saying what he thought he was? "I remember myself at fifteen. I would snap at random people in the hall sometimes for no particular reason," he gave a short smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, "Normal adolescence stuff. And if I'm guessing correctly, Harry is going through something much bigger then puberty, maybe bigger than us all... I'll explain later.

"But my point, Albus, is that you're playing with fire here. We've been watching him, Lily and I, and I know enough to safely say that if you ban him from doing this, he will go anyway, Elvin rope or no. At this point, trying to protect him will only endanger him more; you above all should know that. Fate may eventually set things straight, but even fate can be twisted and shaped into something entirely different. Like Sirius, for instance, it wasn't his time, and look where one wrong move got him."

James directed the mirror at Sirius. He was as sickly and pale as he'd been the first time Harry had seen him. And Merlin he was thin! Seeing Sirius again, laying like that on what appeared to be nothing but… well… nothingness, brought gasps to the Order, and a fresh surge of guilt to Harry's mind. He surveyed the place a little more. It did seem to be made of nothing, everything was black, yet you could see all three people sharp as ever. There seemed to be some floor though. His eyes fell back on his godfather and his heart lurched painfully in his chest.

"Perhaps Mr. Potter, you are right," Dumbledore sighed, once again straightening his glasses, "I will permit Harry to accompany a group on this little… excursion."

"That's the conclusion I came to as well." It was Lily again, "After a heated discussion with a certain someone about endangering my child," she turned to glare at the person in question, "I did eventually come to see that letting Harry go is the best possible thing to do." Lily smiled up at her son, who was, at the moment feeling as self-conscious as the time Ginny had sent him that ridiculous Valentine poem via cupid, "But did you say group, Albus? It better not be a large one. There are things in here who's attention should not be attracted… three people is probably the most you should risk. And they should be people who know Sirius well, another reason Harry should go."

"Then perhaps I should go as well," Remus responded looking pale and slightly resolute. Yet he had an anxious air about him that insinuated that he was ready to head straight to the Department of Mysteries and battle a hundred Aurors with his bare hands before doing a swan dive through the veil, "I'd love a second chance to get Sirius back. And quoting Harry, 'there's less chance of that than there is the chance of Hell freezing over' then the chance of me allowing the kid," he actually _ruffled_ Harry's hair, "to rush off into some dangerous adventure without proper guidance."

James took back the mirror, and this time, the grin that adorned his face definitely met his eyes, "Way to go Moony! I haven't heard you curse like that since that incident the night Harry was born and Lily started going into labor in the middle of…"

"Hardy-har-har Prong's, but I if I can recall correctly, my few vile words of distress were practically drowned out by your torrent of rage."

"Do men ever mature?" Lily asked no one in particular.

"Of course we don't," Dumbledore answered promptly, "And no matter how hard some of us try to hide our immaturity, it always comes back to us eventually and profoundly annoys women."

McGonagall gave a small snort and rolled her eyes. Then… something happened. The mirror started blinking out.

"Damn it!" James cursed as the mirror flickered back on, "Harry… need to tell you… explain about the stuff you're going through…" The mirror was glowing and fading out and going completely nuts, "…don't have all the details… you're… bloody... you need… how to find us… follow your… follow your… hearts…we love you kid… I think you're…"

And then he was gone.

"Dad… dad!" Harry called into the mirror, "James Potter! Prongs! Somebody!"

Remus put a hand on his shoulder, his grip was gentle but tense, "It's all right Harry. I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of any of them. Not yet."

"We must, however," Dumbledore interrupted, "take care of the matters at hand and first things first. Since you are going to be with us for quite a while Harry, I suggest you contact your relatives. The phone is in the kitchen."

"Do I have to?" Harry asked, wondering exactly how Vernon was going to threaten him.

If the Order found out how crappy of a guardian Vernon was, they would go over and bug the Dursley's, Vernon would tell them, in a outburst of animosity, that he was doing illegal magic in his bedroom. Harry didn't even want to envision what would happen next.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"So that they can be sure you're safe…"

"They'd prefer I was in grave danger."

"…that you are in good hands…"

"Like, they'll care."

"…and that you will return to them as soon as possible."

"Damn."

"Watch your language. And you do realize that I really don't believe most of your claims?"

"So."

"So go call them," Dumbledore ordered, pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

Harry sighed and marched over to the kitchen. Dumbledore was so oblivious. Every word he'd said was true, but the Professor had merely put them aside as a grumbling teenager's excuses. Which, in fact, they were, and Harry had intentionally made it sound that way. He picked up the phone and dialed the Dursley's number slowly as possible until deciding to get it over with and picked up his pace. The phone rang once, then twice, then three times, four… until it was picked up and answered by an all too proverbial voice.

"This is the Dursley residence, Dudley Dursley speaking. What'd you want?"

"This is Harry."

"So, what'd you want?"

"I want to sell you self-spelling wands!" Harry answered his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Duh, what'd think I want? Just give the phone to Vernon."

"What if I chose not to?"

"Then you've solved my problem! I'm only doing this 'cause I have to. Bye!"

"Don't you hang up on me Potter," this was followed up with a loud yell that was heard even by the Order members in the other room, "DAD! IT'S POTTER ON THE PHONE CALLING FROM SOME FREAK PLACE! HE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!"

There was some scuffling sounds on the other line before the phone was handed to Vernon, for what was going to be, inevitably, more yelling.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING JUST…"

"I'M SORRY UNCLE VERNON, I SHOULDN'T HAVE WORRIED YOU."

There was nothing but silence on the other end of the line before Vernon answered incredulously, "What?"

Harry brought his voice down so that only Vernon had a chance of hearing him, "Would you cut it with the screaming please! My friends might hear! I'm only trying to cover for you, OK. For once can you just insult me quietly?"

"Fine you little…" Vernon responded with a string of whispered verbal abuse and foul language, all of it tremendously inappropriate.

Harry just put on a very fake smile and nodded his head to evade suspicion from the prying eyes of the Order.

"Well now that that's cleared up I guess I should tell you that I've got to stay here for awhile until I can save my godfather from never-ending unconsciousness in a portal between the mortal and spirit world," Harry interrupted after awhile with a raised voice so those in the next room could hear it.

"I'm not even going to ask, boy."

"Do the world a favor and stay true to that promise. I'll be coming back after everything is cleared up," Harry was now not even bothering to speak quietly; the Order couldn't hear Vernon and that was all that mattered.

"Shit."

"Exactly my thoughts on the matter, well I'm sure you're really busy right now so I'll just hang up."

"Yes I am. You interrupted me in the middle of watching ESPN on the telly. I hope you die in that portal thing. It'd make my life so much easier."

"I love you too, Uncle Vernon, bye!"

Harry trudged back into the room trying his best not to explode at the rather satisfied look on Dumbledore's face.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Dumbledore asked. But the way he said it made it sound more like a statement then a question. "I knew you all cared for each other a bit."

"I just don't fit in with their family," Harry muttered, "It's like I don't belong there."

He sighed. It was the truth really, but not the whole truth. Harry had no idea how anyone would react if they knew he was treated like a human House Elf, Lucius Malfoy's House Elf.

"Well what are we waiting for? We gotta save Sirius! So Dumbledore, what do we do first?"

"First, Mr. Potter, we have to find a way to convince Fudge to let us into the Department of Mysteries to get into the veil. We also need to retrieve my Elvin rope from Aberforth. I believe I shall pay him a visit tonight…"

"Excuse me Professor," Tonk's cut in, "But if you think Fudge is just going to let us gain use of the Department to go on what may end up being a suicide mission just to save who he supposes is Public Enemy #1, you're as stupid as that Umbridge cow."

"Now, now Tonk's," Remus laughed, "That's no way to address a woman of her stature. Dorklores Umbitch is much more suitable."

It took a split second for the pun to sink in, but soon everyone was shaking uncontrollably with much needed laughter. It felt so good to laugh, after everything that had just happened.

Elaina grinned, obviously impressed at Lupin's sense of humor, "Ah, Dorklores Jane Umbitch. Perhaps even that is not enough for her person; Dorklores Pain Umbitch would be much better, or Dorklores Jerk Umbitch. Which do you prefer?"

"I think 'Pain' would suit her just fine," answered Harry, looking down for a brief second at his hand. It still had the thin scars stating 'I will not tell lies' on it. He'd put a charm on it so it wouldn't show, but he hadn't made it strong enough and it had worn off a bit.

It was definitely a mistake to look down, Harry realized. Nobody saw the brief glance but Lupin, but one person was all it took.

"What's that Harry?" the ex-professor asked sharply.

"Nothing, just agreeing that the former was the best choice," Harry tried to change the subject.

"I mean this," Remus grabbed Harry's hand and examined it, "'I will not tell lies'?"

"You mean it still hasn't come off?" Ron asked, "Geez, you've had those bloody scars since when, October?"

"If I didn't know any better," Elaina said, looking over at Harry's hand, "I'd say that's the work of a Blood Quill."

"That's impossible!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, "Those things were banned early in the seventeenth century! I covered a case in which a wizard gave a Muggle one for a joke. I can assure you the fiend who did that got ten years in Azkaban. It's torture to write with one!"

"I knew that quill Umbridge made you use was illegal Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as well, making everyone drop there jaws in surprise, "But would you listen? No…"

"Give it a rest Hermione, nobody could have done a thing about it then," Harry replied.

Dumbledore furrowed his brows, "So it was a Blood Quill. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I already said why, no one could have done anything about it! Umbridge and Fudge had way too much power and everyone I could have told was under close surveillance. Besides, I did tell somebody. Ron and Hermione knew, I just asked them not to tell anyone. It was my information to disclose. It's not like it was the bloody Cruciatus Curse or anything!" Harry answered with an exasperated wave of his hands.

"You shouldn't even know what the Cruciatus Curse feels like Harry," Lupin shot back with just as much exasperation. "I can't stand to think of how painful that detention you had to do that in must have been!"

"Says the person who's been turning into a werewolf every month since he was four…"

"Not just one detention," Ron replied, "lots of them! Umbridge gave him loads throughout the year!"

Molly Weasley literally started crying about the injustices of the world and Remus started raving about how he should have suspected something was wrong. He seemed to think the entire happening was his fault for some reason; Harry hoped that Sirius would never find out about the incident if he survived.

"It hurts to transform into a werewolf?" Elaina questioned, "Nobody's ever mentioned to me that it might hurt…"

Lupin sighed, "Well when your bones break, splinter, and completely reshape themselves, your muscles rip apart, and then reform, and hair rips apart your skin to grow… well… it is rather painful. Not to mention if you don't have the Wolfsbane Potion, the wolf will literally tear itself apart for the taste of blood if there's nothing else to bite. A very nasty taste to wake up to in the mornings I must say… I mentioned it to James and Sirius once, and they started bringing me some of that Muggle mouth wash directly after the full moon. Stuff works quite well that Listerine… or was it Scope?"

He had said it all so matter-of-factly, that most just stared in shock (people seemed to be doing a lot of that lately). Elaina had gone very, very pale, and if she hadn't have felt the need to remain strong, she probably would have cried. Harry sighed and looked at his hand. He'd figured as much. Then an idea stuck him…

"Hey guys, I think I know how to get Fudge to let us into the Department of Mysteries…"

His mischievous grin reminded Remus _way_ too much of James Potter.

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**Next Chapter Includes:**

Elaina's POV

Snape's POV

Dumbledore's POV

Harry's plan

What happened the night Harry was born (Prepare for tales from the Marauder Era)

**Questions/Comments:** Email me:


	7. Past Predicaments, Present Ideas

Defending the Light

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter! Sheesh! How many times do I have to repeat myself to you people?

* * *

"_Hey guys, I think I know how to get Fudge to let us into the Department of Mysteries…"_

_His mischievous grin reminded Remus way too much of James Potter._

Chapter 7: Past Predicaments, Present Ideas

"Well spill it then," Remus grinned, "I know that look; you're on to something. And unless I've missed my guess, it's illegal."

Harry feigned shock, "ME, do some thing illegal? How dare you suggest such a thing? I've only broken, well… I've lost count of all the laws I've broken."

"Me too," Ron sympathized, getting a very disapproving look from Mrs. Weasley, "So what's the plan? Any chance I could get in on it whatever it is?"

Harry smiled; he didn't think he'd smiled so much in ages. But now, a plan was getting underway, a plan that could save Sirius's life. It felt so good to actually be out there doing something. He had taken way too much of being shoved to the side in the past.

"Blackmail," He stated.

Snape, who was at the moment taking a drink from the goblet in front of him, nearly chocked on his wine, "And you actually expect it to WORK?"

"Sure, it could. All we need to do is threaten to take this little Blood Quill episode to court."

"And if blackmailing Fudge doesn't work," Ron excitedly added, really getting into it, "We have like, a ton more dirt to threaten them with! We should get Neville and Luna in on this too, even more witnesses for when she tried to put the Cruciatus Curse on you! And that time she forced you and Hermione by wand-point into the Forbidden Forrest… And how she was reading our mail… And how she kept spying on us… And how she kept threatening us about…"

Ignoring the incredulous stares around them, Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ronald Weasley! She did not force us into the forest, we lead her there!"

"Well you were still at wand-point," Ginny pointed out, "So you have all the evidence pointing against her. Do you think if we showed the Ministry people an edited version of _my_ memory of it, you know, just watching you guys, it could make it look like she was taking you off to murder you in a secluded spot?"

"I don't know…" Harry started.

This was going better then he thought! Then Dumbledore cleared his throat…

"So basically your plan is to go behind the backs of all the wizards of England by illegally making deals under the table and using blackmail on respected Ministry officials?"

Harry slumped in his seat, "It sounds less immoral when Ron and I say it."

McGonagall rolled her eyes while Molly Weasley started banging her head against the table muttering about where she went wrong as a parental guardian. Lupin, on the other hand, looked as if he was highly disappointed in Dumbledore's decision, and Snape, who had let his guard down and had been leaning forward and listening intently, slouched back in his chair with the usual scowl on his face, trying to look like he didn't care.

"Indeed it does," the Headmaster chuckled, "Indeed it does. I suppose I may be able to arrange an appointment with the Minister and Dolores Umbridge. I'll let you do most of the talking but I think it best if I accompany you, just incase plans backfire."

This time it was Harry's turn to gap in shock.

"You're actually agreeing to this?"

"Yes, I believe so."

Reactions varied greatly around the room. Lupin grinned happily and Snape leaned forward, a malicious grin playing along the edges of his mouth. Elaina's grin was more conniving then malicious, and Tonk's was more playful. Kingsley Shacklebolt looked on the verge of laughing; many other Order members did as well. The rest, well… they had no idea what to think of this particular turn of events. Harry punched the air with his fist with a gleeful "yes!" and gave Ron a high-five. Dumbledore chuckled again before speaking.

"Well now, why don't you kids," Harry flinched once again at being called a kid (and in front of people!); "go upstairs so Harry can get settled. If he's going to be staying here he's going to need a place to sleep. We'll figure out the details. And no 'buts' Mr. Potter, you won't miss anything. We just need to go over some reports and explain some things to Miss Lafina here. Including who Sirius is and why he needs to be rescued. Off you go."

Harry sighed, there really was no use arguing. He, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all left the table and started upstairs. Through the hallway, up some more stairs, and through some more hallways they went before finally closing the door to the same room Harry and Ron had stayed in last summer. All four teens immediately flopped down on one of the two king-sized beds in the room and kicked off their shoes. Harry gave a contented sigh. There was just something about flopping down onto a comfy space with his friends that made him feel his age.

"So," he began, "Pretty interesting day, huh?"

Ginny, who was lying to the left of him giggled, "I think that would be a serious understatement."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, his head directly across from Harry's, "it's not every day you get to sit in on a secret meeting and talk to dead people! I wonder if Dumbledore will let me come along on that blackmail thing…"

"All that information…" Hermione almost whined from Harry's right, "all that information hidden away! Just full of powers and knowledge the world can only dream of! Probably some that no one's even thought to dream of!"

"Should've known that's all you'd be worried about," Ron laughed with almost an affectionate air, "books, books, books! Typical!"

Harry and Ginny grinned as Hermione kicked Ron with her foot. People were always calling her a know-it-all, but Harry suspected she was really just curious, like he was now. Some of the books and Ministry reports he'd been reading lately had brought on more questions then answers. There was so much he didn't know, and he was starting to develop a burning desire to learn more. Well, there was one thing he did know, and that was the fact that he'd bet his Firebolt Hermione felt the same way about this kind of stuff that he did.

"So Harry," Hermione inquired, "what was it that Dumbledore said to you about that prophesy? I thought it had been destroyed."

"I really don't want to talk about it Hermione. I may tell you guys someday but not now."

"Whatever you say, mate," Ron responded with a worried look.

The four of them just sat in silence for awhile. Harry: soaking up the moment of just being with his friends; the rest: getting lost in their own thoughts. Until Ron decided to bring up the latest on Quidditch that is…

When Mrs. Weasley came upstairs a few hours later, she nearly cried from joy. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all lying on there stomachs on a bed and laughing jubilantly over something or the other. The subject had gone from Quidditch to old games to past adventures to schoolwork to homework to making fun of Snape to television to books to tacos to giraffes to Professor Trelawney to motor scooters to sports then back to Quidditch again before Hermione somehow pushed the conversation towards the subject of OWLs. How she got any school related subject out of sports was a mystery to Harry, but then again, he had no idea how they'd ended up talking about tacos earlier either, or giraffes for that matter. Those things just seemed to pop up somehow.

"Dinner's ready," Mrs. Weasley chimed fondly, "Come on you four, especially you Harry. You need some meat on your bones, you hear me?"

Harry and Hermione gave a polite, "Yes Mrs. Weasley," as Ron and Ginny replied, "Sure Mum."

The group tip-toed downstairs but as soon as the basement door closed they all took a mad dash down the stairs.

"Kids these days," Moody growled when they reached their given destination, "sounded more like a stampede of rabid squirrels!"

"Rabid squirrels?" A woman by the name of Hestia Jones asked skeptically, trying hard not to snicker.

"Rabid squirrels," was the only reply.

"Oh, quit complaining Mad-Eye," Arthur chuckled. "You're not the one with sensitive hearing!"

Remus joined in, "I actually wouldn't be surprised if I go deaf one of these days. If I hang around Harry anymore I probably will."

"Why is everyone always picking on me?" Harry asked dramatically, "First Voldemort and his Death Eaters, then Fudge and Umbitch, now you guys too!"

Ron laughed at his friend's embellished plight, his plate was topped with so much spaghetti it was a wonder how Ron could eat so much and still be as thin as one of those noodles. Ok, so maybe that was exaggerating, but still…

"So why is everybody staying for dinner this evening?" Hermione asked as she went to join Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Harry, and Ron.

"Why, to get to know Miss Lafina of course!" Mrs. Weasley answered, as she and Elaina herself joined the little group, "Arthur, Ron, introduce yourselves properly!"

"Delighted to meet you Miss Lafina; and you may call me Arthur if you like," Mr. Weasley said promptly.

"_Imf Romn_," was all Ron could manage with a mouth full of spaghetti.

Elaina's laughter, thankfully, cut off any lecture Mrs. Weasley had for her youngest son, "Call me Elaina, everyone, please!"

"Sorry about that," Ron apologized for his earlier introduction as his parents left to talk to Dedalus Diggle.

"Quite alright, Ron, quite alright," Elaina replied giggling, "I absolutely _hate_ formalities. And I've had enough of them to last a lifetime! In fact, I should be apologizing, to everyone. First I go off on outlandish tangents, and the next thing I know, I'm having a giggle fit." She blushed heavily then turned somber, "I guess the Dark Lord being back has really been getting to me. I thought I'd go mad last time he was in power. But this time, I don't intend to end up getting shipped to the United States while the war's going on."

"I know what you mean," Lupin sympathized. "It's always hard going through something like this. You just have to have something to hold onto, to fight for. That's what'll keep you sane, keep you from giving up."

"What are you holding onto, Remus?" Elaina asked in a whisper.

"Hope," came the answer. "Hope that maybe, just maybe, humankind still has some good in it, that children still have a future, no matter who they are, that when I wake up in the morning, I can look out the window at a new day, knowing that those I care for are safe, and perhaps some hope for a miracle." He looked at the ceiling and sighed, "The world may need one very soon."

Then, giving Miss Lafina a polite nod of his head, turned heel and walked upstairs.

"I think," Elaina said, watching Remus leave, "That Mr. Lupin is a very wise man."

Harry silently agreed. The world did need a miracle, but he had a feeling one wouldn't just pop up on its own. He had a sudden urge to help his former professor. He wanted to know that a miracle could happen, that there was still hope. He'd think about it later though.

Harry turned to Elaina, who was still watching the stairs, even though Remus was gone, "I can definitely understand what you mean about being locked away while a war's going on. Actually, it's happening to me right now! At least I get to go save Sirius now, but it's not like it'll involve Death Eaters or Voldemort or anything."

Elaina smiled at him, "Well you're young, and you still have a lot to learn. Don't look at me like that, Harry! I know you're eager, but your job right now is to learn everything you can; I have a feeling you're going to need that knowledge soon. Your time will come Harry. Believe me, _your time will come_."

The rest of the evening passed with little more then idle chit-chat compared to what went on earlier. They talked of what the veil may be like inside, Quidditch, and OWLs (Harry REALLY wanted to get off that subject). Hermione even got everyone into a rousing discussion over politics. Elaina laughed and chatted with the others, yet she kept glancing at the stairs.

"Worried about Professor Lupin?" Harry asked her about an hour later after she had glanced at the stairs for about the sixtieth time.

Elaina jumped, "Well I… He just seemed to be a bit upset…"

Hermione joined them, "I'm a bit concerned as well, to tell you the truth."

Ron just rolled his eyes and swallowed a huge piece of Mrs. Weasley's spice cake, "Women, can't stop worrying about the stupidest…"

He was cut off by Ginny's plate breaking over his head, "Well then, let's go check on him," she said, marching towards the stairs.

Ron rubbed his head as the two women and Harry snickered. All four of them then proceeded to follow Ginny up the stairs.

"Maybe he just went home," Elaina suggested as they made their way through the deserted mansion.

"That," answered Hermione, her face darkening, "would be impossible."

"How so?" Elaina and Harry asked at the same time.

"Because," said Ginny, "Professor Lupin doesn't have a home! I was using some of those extendable…," she glanced at Elaina, "I mean… I _accidently_ overheard some of the adults talking and it turns out he's been kicked out of every apartment he's had the money to live in because it's the law to tell the owner about his condition. He's even had to sleep outside some nights! So right now, he's been living at Grimmauld Place. His will hasn't been read yet, but according to Dumbledore, Sirius gave this whole place to the Order. So Lupin is staying here."

Elaina looked quite murderous for a moment, "I hope Umbitch drops dead."

"As do I," Harry answered seriously.

Harry then saw an open door that, according to the others, was where Lupin had been sleeping for the past few months. It was not glamorous, evil, or gaudy like the other rooms. The room contained a large bed, a dresser, and a small nightstand. But the thing that caught Harry's attention most happened to be Lupin himself. He was staring at what appeared to be a small mass of brown fur. His face was emotionless, and he appeared to be thinking.

"Um… Professor Lupin," Hermione asked cautiously, "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out whether or not to blame the bear," was the only reply.

The bear? Harry wondered what the heck Lupin was talking about. The five of them moved into the room and Harry got a closer look at what the werewolf was staring at. It was an old Teddy Bear, a _very_ old Teddy Bear. Its fur was mussed and it was missing an eye. All around it pieces of fluff stuck out and one leg looked like it had been torn.

"What does the bear have to do with anything?" Ron asked, extremely confused.

Lupin sighed, "I mentioned earlier today that the night I was bitten, I was trying to recover my Teddy Bear. Well this is him, Mr. Isaac Fuzzy-Winkles."

Ron started cracking up but was silenced by the glares of the three girls. Harry just looked and felt confused.

Lupin's mouth twitched at he corners, "Don't gang up on Ron you guys. It is kind of humorous. The night after I was bitten, I stayed up all night trying to figure out if it was all his fault for 'hiding' from me in the woods, or mine for going to get him." He gave a bitter, strangled laugh, "I knew it was my fault though. It was just nice to blame things on something else." Another bitter laugh, "Every time Sirius got mad, he'd do something destructive, Peter would whine, and James would plot. Me, I'd build everything up inside myself, then stare at the bear, I've taken my anger out on it a few times as well."

No one knew what to do; they all just stood there, so Lupin continued.

"Your plan, Harry, was excellent. Looks like you definitely have some marauder in you after all, Prongs Jr."

Harry grinned, "Prongs Jr.?"

"That's what we used to call you! Quite amusing really, especially since after a week of trying to get you to say 'dada', a few hours with me, and everything in the house was 'Moony'."

Gales of laughter filled the room at this. Harry vaguely remembered himself saying 'Moony', and hearing laughing like this. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but it seemed so real…

"You must be really good with kids then, huh?" Elaina smiled, then shook her head, "What am I thinking? Of course you're good with kids! Your students all seem to adore you. And I must say, you seem to have a great sense of humor as well."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "and where did that 'Moldy-shorts' thing come from?"

"James made that up," Remus said, "It was incredibly funny, until he said it to Voldemort's face of course…"

Reactions were mixed. Lupin looked as if he was remembering something exceptionally enjoyable and started laughing. Harry, picturing the look on Voldemort's face, burst into laughter as well. Hermione, on the other hand looked disproving and the color drained out of the faces of Ron, Ginny, and Elaina.

"I bet he loved that," Harry choked out, "I've insulted him to Death Eaters and they wanted to kill me for it! I'd love to see what would happen if I ever insulted him to his face! Speaking of his face, you guys should've seen it when I escaped him in my fourth year."

"You, Harry," Lupin scolded, "should never have had to see his face ever! Though I do admit it was pretty funny. Of course, those types of things are always funnier afterwards."

"You're saying," Elaina breathed deeply, "that you and your friends insulted You-Know-Who to his face and got away with it?"

"If getting away with it means evading him then landing on the 'top ten' part of his hit list… then yeah."

"Do tell," Harry encouraged, jumping onto the bed and getting comfortable.

The Prophesy had said his parents had lived though three encounters with Voldemort and survived. And maybe he'd learn something useful that he could use next time he was attacked.

"Well…" Lupin started, "it was very late at night, and Sirius and I had been visiting Lily and James. How the Death Eaters got past the wards, I have no idea, but they did. And with them, came someone none of us expected to see, Voldemort himself… We were outnumbered about 5 to 1, but we kept fighting. We all dueled with Voldemort at one point, but not for long. Lily had sent out a mayday but no one came, and pretty soon, we were all being flanked by at least two Death Eaters. I had a rifle full of silver bullets pointed at my face, which was just plain typical. Voldemort told us about how we were such a pain in the ass and how we were all going to die. He then proceeded to call Lily a mudblood, at which point James lost it. Prongs hurled insults and a few words I'd never heard before at the Dark Lord. He also told him, oh, what was it? 'We're a pain in your ass? Good! Cause I plan to be a lot more of a pain when I take that stick _out_ of your ass and whack you in the head with it, Moldy-Shorts!'; I thought for sure Voldemort would loose it as well and just kill us all."

"How in the world did you get out of that?" Elaina asked, her eyes as round as saucers.

"A good question. Well, we had a distraction."

"What kind of distraction?" Harry leaned forward anxiously.

Lupin gave him a mischievous smile, "You should know, the distraction was your doing."

"What?"

"Lily started going into labor."

Even Harry had to drop his jaw this time.

"Anyway," Lupin continued, "it distracted the Death Eaters just long enough for James, Sirius, and I to escape. I'm not sure how those two managed it, but I was able to free my hands, grab the rifle, and render quite a few Death Eaters unconscious with it until I could find a decent wand. We were all about to get into the same predicament we were in a couple minutes ago when Lily screamed, and something totally unbelievable happened. A huge wave of magic just burst out of her, knocking out about half of Voldemort's cronies. That's when the Aurors came. Dumbledore was with them. James rushed off with Lily to Saint Mungo's and Sirius and I stayed to fight. It didn't take long to get everything settled down again. After about twenty minutes of dueling with the Headmaster, Voldie took off. And about an hour later, everything was in tip-top shape! So Sirius and I headed over to the hospital, and as it turned out, we weren't the only ones who'd gotten into a hazardous situation that night. Snape was there as well, which, oddly enough, marked a bit of a turning point for me."

"And how," Hermione asked, "did that happen?"

"Sirius hexed Snape's hair green," Lupin shook his head. "So Snape turned his skin purple… They were about to get into a full blown duel, in which Sirius had the advantage because Snape had broken his arm doing who-knows-what. Anyway, I ended up stopping it, and… well… kind of told Sirius exactly what I thought about the state of his maturity. Which, I will not bother repeating," he added seeing the look on Ron's face, "I always thought that reprimanding him and James would make them not like me anymore. It's a terrible weakness I had, and still have a bit of today. I guess I just like being liked, and am so unused to being liked, that when someone does like me, I give them an awful lot of leeway. What did happen, however, was that Sirius managed to be mad at me for a full three minutes until we discovered the coffee machine in the maternity waiting room… I also gained respect."

Elaina smiled warmly at him, "Ah caffeine, you have to love it."

"Especially since Sirius got the idea to add alcohol to it."

"He didn't!"

"He did."

"I fear the results."

"You should, by the time James came out two hours later we were bouncing off the walls singing Elton John's 'Crocodile Rock' at the top pf our lungs. Thank Merlin for sobering charms."

Everyone was laughing again and had most of the color back in their faces.

"So then what happened?" Harry egged Lupin on.

"So then we got into decent states of mind and walked into room 378 to find the cutest little thing any of us had ever set eyes on. God, Harry, you were adorable! Even Sirius was at loss for words." He laughed, "I've heard most kids come out bald, but you had this mass of messy black hair that you'd have to see it to believe! And your eyes, they looked so much like Lily's it was uncanny. I got to hold you that night, you looked and felt so fragile. I was afraid you might break in my hands. But we all knew in our hearts that you were anything but fragile. From the moment we saw you we knew you were strong… That night had been the last time Lily and James stayed in your house though. You guys kept moving around to evade the so-called 'Moldy-Shorts' until you finally settled at Godric's Hollow and Sirius became your secret keeper."

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say, but ended up saying "OW!" as Fred and George Apparated in and landed on top of him with a CRACK.

"Hello everyone we were just thinking…"

"…About that little conversation with Mr. Potter. And we were wondering…"

"…Why our dear Professor Lupin was continuously called 'Moony'..."

They both stopped, gazing at Lupin suspiciously over their mugs of Butterbeer.

"Well…" Remus said cautiously, "That is my nickname…"

Before he could finish, however, he had to duck with everyone else to avoid getting Butterbeer splattered all over his face as the Weasley twin both yelled, "WHAT!" in perfect harmony.

"The same Moony who helped write the Marauder's Map?"

"The same Moony who's name is carved into the Whomping Willow?"

"The same Moony whose name shall be forever etched as a sign of glory in the Slytherin boy's bathroom?"

They both looked warily at Lupin whose only response was, "I _really_ don't want to talk about the Slytherin Bathroom Incident right now."

Harry tried his best to hold back giggles, but couldn't, "What's the Slytherin Bathroom Incident?"

"It involves cursed toilets. If you want to know details, ask Padfoot if we manage to get him out of the Veil."

"BLACK IS PADFOOT!" the twins said in union.

"Yes, he is. Is the party over?"

Fred and George bobbed their heads in affirmation.

"Then I suppose I'd better escort Miss Lafina downstairs."

"There is no need really," Elaina replied as she followed Lupin out the door. "I do need to get going though. Work tomorrow is going to be hell…"

Their voices faded as well as their footsteps that made a soft _click, click, click,_ as they headed down the hallway. A faint trace of their echoes lingering in the air.

"Wow," said Fred, "A real Marauder, and right under our noses!"

"Do you guys think he'd help us with the products in our shop?" George asked eagerly.

"Don't you two have work tomorrow, too?" Ron asked, exasperated.

"Indeed we do Ronnikins. And you are keeping us up. How dare you!"

"Me?"

"Don't play dumb with us kid. You're lucky we let you live this long, misbehaving like that…"

"…honestly bro, you should know better…"

"…we'll call the Aurors down on you tomorrow morning."

And with a final "Bye!" they were gone.

"Good riddance!" said Ron, as they made there way back to Harry and Ron's room. "Can those two get any more annoying?"

"If they can," Ginny laughed, "I don't think I want to find out."

"I had no clue your parents were actually face-to-face with Voldemort and survived!" Hermione started ranting, "And Professor Lupin and Sirius too? Did you know anything about this Harry?"

Harry could only shake his head in response, there were many things he didn't know, but he intended to find out about them.

Elaina glanced over at Remus. Conversation had run dry and she was no longer sure of what to say to him. He was so easy to talk to once you actually got him to talk; Remus definitely had a shy streak in him, or perhaps mild-mannered was a way to describe him. She still couldn't get over the fact that he'd nearly been sent to Azkaban, and she desperately wanted to cause harm to anyone who'd hurt him. All her feelings seemed muddled today, and she really didn't know what she felt about anything. She wanted to fight, yet a part of her mind screamed for her to leave the country. She wanted to forget, but she couldn't. She wanted to... Oh Merlin! She definitely didn't want to think about that.

_"Ha!"_ she thought to herself, _"The war must really be getting to me if I'm stupid enough to let my guard down like this."_

But her defenses were slowly weakening, and it was only a matter of time before she went mad with all the memories she was keeping within herself.

"Well, here you are," Remus announced softly, taking her light, summer cloak of a rack in the hall and gently slipping it onto her shoulders.

Normally, she would have cringed at the thought of a man helping her into her cloak, yet the gentlemanly manner seemed to fit Lupin like a glove, despite the other, mischievous qualities he seemed to possess. And possess them he did, she was sure of it.

"Thank you," was all she could say in response. "Good bye."

Severus Snape watched sourly as Lupin waved goodbye to Lafina. He knew her emotions were in complete disarray at the moment. He could always tell what people were feeling, he could read them in a way. His emotions were muddled as well. He, on the other hand, was not foolish enough to show them. It was a good thing, he figured, being able to keep your emotions in check. It would be an even better thing, he supposed, if emotions ceased to exist at all. They tended to befuddle the mind more than a mind scrambling potion. He, of all people, should know that.

In fact, the only emotion that hadn't ended up hurting him, internally at least, was anger, and he had tried to keep it that. But sometimes, other emotions tended to creep in, no one person could keep them all locked up. Agitation was one, and the agitation was, strangely enough, targeted at his other emotions.

What did he think of Potter? Lupin? Black? Well, maybe not Black, but Lupin seemed civil enough. The problem, however, lay in the fact that not only did he turn into a monstrous beast once a month, but that he was a certified goody-goody and too nice for his britches. Not to mention he was a pushover.

The younger Potter was way to much like his father, yet he was slightly less arrogant. It was only a matter of time before the press got to his head, though. And he had no idea what it is like to make _real_ sacrifices. Sacrifices like those that he himself had to face day after day to help out a world of supercilious, idiot people who had, and continued to make his life a living hell.

"_No,"_ he thought to himself, _"I'm not saving anyone. I'm not a bloody hero; I do this to get revenge on the Dark Lord. Revenge."_

But the other emotions crept in, and he couldn't help but feel bitter. The entire Order thought they were doing something so… great, fighting against the Dark. Yet none of them knew anything of what it was like to actually work for the Dark. And he knew he would fight a hundred battles for the light, for just one day without the Dark Mark and all it stood for looming over his head, giving him a silent warning as it perched atop his arm.

Then, turning his bitterness into pure hate, Severus marched out the door, shoving Lupin to the side as he went.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore watched Snape leave with a knowing glance. Severus thought he could keep his emotions in check, but still, they showed. If only to Albus they showed. He sighed and popped a lemon drop into his mouth before disappearing with a swirl of his cloak, and reappearing in his office at Hogwarts. Giving a polite nod to the portraits that decorated the walls; Albus strode over to his Pensive, sat it on his desk, and then took a seat himself, behind it.

Adults such as Severus, Elaina, and Lupin were easy to read. They were set in there ways and predictable. Yes, they could surprise you sometimes, yet you always found the reason for what they were doing eventually. Adolescents were an entirely different matter. They were always changing, shaping into what they wanted to become, and what they didn't want to become yet could turn into anyway. So in short, teens were completely capricious. And unfortunately, the only hope for the world was one of them. And as teens despised authority, Albus knew he was in for a hell of a lot of disagreements. By now he'd gotten used to saying 'frog' and others jumping, but that was not going to work with Harry. Dumbledore hoped with all his might that this would serve well as the boy's one last 'hurrah' before he went back to his Aunt and Uncle's house.

Looking into his Pensive, Albus decided to pull out some of his earlier memories.

_A young man stood yelling at another much older man …_

"_I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK! I'M SUPPOSED TO BE ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL WIZARDS OF THE AGE, SO WHY DOESN'T EVERYONE JUST LET ME BE!"_

_The same young man stood beside a small ten-year-old boy, screaming at an older woman…_

"_HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? THEY ALMOST KILLED HIM! THEY WOULD HAVE IF…"_

"_Albus, calm down please."_

"_HOW CAN THINGS LIKE THIS HAPPEN? HOW?"_

"_People," Came the hoarse voice of the boy, "People do these things, and I'm never listening to people again."_

"_Then who will you listen to, dear?"_

"_The voices in my head," the boy responded as he walked out of the room. _

"_Oh dear," was all the woman could seem to say._

"_Actually, he has a point."_

As the memories went on, Albus could only come to the conclusion that it was probably too difficult for anyone to fully understand an adolescent, even if you're one yourself.

"_No,"_ Albus thought, _"Especially if you're one yourself." _

Harry definitely would have agreed to that statement. But at the moment, he didn't really care about what anyone, especially Dumbledore, thought. He was too busy trying to control his emotions. But that didn't matter as much to him either. He was just glad that for once, he was taking control of something. And no one, not even Voldemort could ruin that feeling. From now on, he was going to make his own decisions, and if it came to it, his own mistakes.

With that thought in mind, Harry, for reasons he couldn't explain, let go, and silently cried himself to sleep.

_Don't think that you can tell me what to think _

_I'm the one who knows what's good for me _

_And I'm stating my independence _

_Gonna take the road I'm gonna take _

_And I'm gonna make my own mistakes _

_It's my life_

_I decide_

_I decide, how I live_

_I decide, who I love_

_Choice is mine and no one gets to make my mind up _

_I decide_

_I decide where I go, what I need, who I know _

_I'm the one who's running my life_

_I decide, I decide_

_Don't think you're ever gonna hold me down_

_Couldn't do it then can't do it now_

_I'm kicking down all the fences_

_I'm gonna do it all and do too much_

_And if I mess the whole thing up _

_It's my right_

_I decide_

_I decide, how I live_

_I decide, who I love_

_Choice is mine and no one gets to make my mind up _

_I decide_

_I decide where I go, where I sleep, who I know _

_I'm the one who's running my life_

_I decide, I decide_

_I'm taking my own chances_

_I'm finding my own answers_

_I'm only answering to me_

_And that's the way it's gonna be_

_I decide _

_Ohh yeah, yeah _

_I decide_

_I decide_

_I decide, how I live_

_I decide, who I love_

_Choice is mine and no one gets to make my mind up_

_I decide_

_I decide where I go, where I sleep, who I know_

_I'm the one who's running my life_

_I decide, I decide_

_I decide how I live_

_I decide who I love_

_Choice is mine and no one gets to make my mind up I decide_

* * *

**Next Chapter Includes:**

Aberforth Dumbledore

Fudge's office

A suspicious looking playboy magazine

**Questions/Comments:** Email me: (link on my author page)


	8. Hooray for Blackmail

Defending the Light

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** I own… _(Pulls dryer lint out of pocket)_ …absolutely nothing!

* * *

_From now on, Harry was going to make his own decisions, and if it came to it, his own mistakes. _

_With that thought in mind, Harry, for reasons he couldn't explain, let go, and silently cried himself to sleep. _

Chapter 8: Hooray for Blackmail

Harry woke up the next morning feeling like a boulder had just been lifted off of his chest. He was back among friends and today, he would do something useful. But at the thought of Fudge's office, a bit of nervous tension slinked in. He swallowed it and returned to his joyous mood, and decided to do something nice for Mrs. Weasley. She was putting up with him after all. Harry then resolved to wake up Ron. Unfortunately, just shaking him wasn't going to work...

"'_Arry! Getom offa may!_"

"Sorry Ron, but it's time to get up, 'Sunshine'!"

"You're not sorry. And it's not even sunny out yet… Bloody hell! It's six o'clock in the morning!"

"Yep, I got to sleep in. Come on let's go make breakfast!"

Ron rubbed his eyes in bewilderment, "Breakfast? You want _us_ to make breakfast?"

"I think it would be nice to give your mum a break, yeah," Harry shrugged. "Besides, I've never had any of your cooking before."

"That's because I can't cook."

"Oh, come off it Ron! Now get dressed and get downstairs."

About fifteen minutes later the duo was dressed and in the kitchen digging around for different cooking utensils.

"OK," Harry said, looking at the things he and Ron had gathered. "We have pots, pans, and all the ingredients we need. I wish we had some Muggle appliances, it'd make this so much easier…"

"Dad has some in the other room," Ron suggested, "He's studying them, but he hasn't figured out what they do yet."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get started!"

Arthur Weasley's 'Muggle contraption's' as Ron called them, turned out to be an electric mixer, a toaster, a blender, a waffle iron, and an electric can opener. Armed with their supplies, the boys set out to make the morning meal. And about half and hour later, to the sound of the Wizard Rock Radio Station, they were well on their way to making enough food to feed a small army. Not enough to feed the Weasley's, but a small army certainly.

"OK, I admit it," Ron grinned over at Harry, who was not only controlling all the meat (bangers, sausage links, and bacon), the hash browns, and the fruit salad, but also had control of the pancakes, which he was currently flipping to the beat of the music while stirring another batch of batter. "Cooking is fun. Ooh, I love this song!"

Harry grinned as well, and couldn't help singing along with Ron about some poor Quiddich punk who was dumped by his girlfriend and ended up going to the World Cup. Ron wasn't doing too badly for his first time _not_ trying to avoid preparing meals. Though he himself had the most things to do, Ron was holding up rather well with the eggs (with and without cheese), toast, and waffle iron. It was nice to have a companion in the kitchen for once, one that doesn't insult your every move that is. But even Harry had to admit, Aunt Petunia was an excellent chef. She actually had a degree in the culinary arts, and used to work for a posh restaurant before she had married Vernon. She really had taught him everything he knew.

"What are you to doing up at this ungodly hour?"

Harry and Ron both jumped as they turned around to face Hermione and Ginny who were standing in the doorway in their PJ's.

"Bookworm pajamas?" Ron laughed, "Only you, Hermione."

Hermione tried to glare but she only ended up in a giggle fit. Ginny, however, did manage to glare. She was wearing black pajama bottoms with a jet-black tank-top that had 'It's All About Me' written on it in large white letters with an annoyingly cute-looking rabbit perched on top of it.

"That pronouncement does NOT answer my question, Ronald."

"Don't call me that! And what do you think we're doing? De-gnoming a garden? We're cooking, duh!"

"And making a racket! We could hear the commotion from upstairs…"

"Well it must not be that loud, no one else is up!"

"That's because the adults can actually put silencing charms on their rooms…"

Deciding to stop the exploding sibling rivalry going on, Harry cut Ginny off, "Quit the hostility guys. Ron and I are sorry we woke you, but as long as you're up, wanna help? You can make the cinnamon rolls and the omelets."

This made the girls perk up immediately, and they both agreed to help. It wasn't long before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came down to a plethora of food on the dining room table, all covered with this nifty kind of plastic wrap that would keep food exactly as it was the moment it's covered. Needless to say, Harry had never been praised so much about his cooking skills as that morning, and as he had thought his peers were making too much of a fuss, he had no idea how to take Mrs. Weasley's reaction.

"You kids made all this YOURSELVES! You sweet little things! And so thoughtful! I LOVE YOU ALL!"

Ron and Ginny flinched as their mother somehow managed to gather them _and_ Harry and Hermione into her arms for an enormous hug. Yep, Harry was definitely confused, and his muscles instantaneously tensed. Hugging was something he undeniably was not used to.

"Don't strangle them, Molly!" Mr. Weasley chuckled as Ron began to dramatically call out for air.

As Mrs. Weasley let them go, Bill and Charlie walked in, and her two older sons got their turn to be asphyxiated, or so Ginny called it when one was hugged by her mum.

"Bill! Charlie! I didn't know you were stopping by!"

"Yeah, well, Bill told me about last night's meeting, so I stopped by to see how everyone's doing over here… Are those cinnamon rolls?"

"Hey! You got this doohickey working! Good job son!" Mr. Weasley praised Ron exultantly as he placed a hand on the red-hot waffle iron, "OWWWW!"

In only a short while, Order members started showing up to see exactly how 'Mission Blackmail' was going to turn out, and ended up staying for breakfast. Even Fred and George were aroused by the aroma of sizzling bacon, and eventually made it through the length of space between their room and the basement in nothing but matching Bludger pajama bottoms. And according to them, walking that far was pure agony. Lupin, in due course, appeared as well, but only after Mrs. Weasley dragged him down, told him that he was not imposing, and reminded him that he needed to, 'put some meat on his bones'. But the most unexpected occurrence happened in the middle of the meal when Dumbledore Apparated onto the center of the table, miraculously, not stepping on anything.

"My, my, this is quite a feast is it not?" He said observing the entrées below him before springing onto the floor, "Well Harry, I'll be ready to leave when you are, so I guess I'll just hang out here. Remus, would you like to come as well?"

Lupin involuntarily dropped all eating utensils he was holding onto the floor, "_For what?_ I'll only make you and Harry look bad!"

"Why for moral support of course!" The Headmaster stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That'd be great," Harry said, "I'd love for you to come along."

"And you may just see that Elaina woman again. You two seemed to get along well." Mrs. Weasley added with an astute look.

Remus just ducked under the table to retrieve his fallen fork and knife, "I'll go."

"Can I come and be moral support too?" Ron asked, putting on his best pleading appearance.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore responded; he really did look sorry. "We need to have as many spies within the ministry as we can, and showing up at this may endanger your father's career. Miss Granger can go if she pleases though."

Hermione looked over at a downtrodden Ron and sighed, "No thanks, Harry has Professor Lupin. So I _suppose_ I'll stay here with Ron."

Ron gave a happy 'whoop' at this and shouted gleefully, "I'm not going to be alone in this house with my family!" Then quickly, at the look on his mother's face, added, "Not that that's in anyway bad…"

It is said that time flies when you're having fun, and Harry would definitely regard that declaration as true. For it seemed like no time at all when he was at the magical phone booth with Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mr. Weasley, who kept pointing at Muggle cell phones and randomly asking people strange questions about their portable CD players.

The trip down to the Main Entrance proved uneventful, as did the wand check and Mr. Weasley then went his separate way. As the other three made their way to the Minister's office, however, they were met with an extremely annoying, young, eleven-year-old errand boy.

"Can you PLEASE sign the Quibbler article that says you're going to save the world using Chocolate Frogs and Zonko's products?" He asked Harry for the eleventh time.

"No!" Harry repeated, "For the hundredth time, I don't do autographs!"

"Well can you sign the one that says you're a total lunatic and that you're going to destroy the Universe?"

"No!"

"What about the one that says you're really the Easter Bunny in disguise?"

"NO!"

"Oh," the kid said looking downtrodden for about two seconds before brightening and turning to Lupin, "Well, can _you_ autograph this article about how yesterday at your trail you escaped, turned into a werewolf, and ate the Minister of Magic?"

Lupin raised his eyebrows, "The Minister is still alive."

"That's what government officials _want _us to think…"

Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed amused, "How about," he said to the boy, "_I_ sign something, and you leave us alone."

"OK! Put you're name right here by this political cartoon of you secretly building up an army of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks while stealing money from Gringotts and helping along a thriving population of monkeys who want to kill these Trollics. Because the monkeys were enslaved in this…"

It took quite a while for the kid, whose name turned out to be Josh Cauldrona, to shut up. And once he was back on his way to deliver some papers for his dad, they had a pretty smooth trip up the elevator. But just as they were approaching the high security area, in which the official's offices were located, they ran into a familiar face.

"What are you doing here?" asked a flabbergasted Percy Weasley.

"None of your beeswax," Harry answered, really not wanting a discussion with Percy right now.

Too late. Percy had them all hauled to a deserted office in about five seconds.

"Are you planning to ask something of Fudge?" he demanded, talking quickly.

Harry could only stare.

"Indeed, young Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore had a twinkle in his eye as he said it.

"He's not going to give you what you want."

"Excuse me…" Harry began before Percy interrupted him.

"I'm not through! You won't get what you want without leeway. I have some," and before anyone could say anything, Percy started to list some very interesting information. "Fudge has been using government money to fund things not approved of by the Council, like things for himself and money to cover up mistakes he's made. I overheard him telling Umbridge that he didn't care what she did, even if she broke the law, he just wanted Hogwart's students to believe that You-Know-Who was still dead. He…" Percy stopped as Dumbledore raised his hand.

"This is all very remarkable Mr. Weasley, but I fear we are late. You see, Harry has provided us with some very interesting information of our own. Yet what you've said will help a great deal. Why don't you head over to a special headquarters tonight and tell us more? Take this," Dumbledore handed him a piece of paper, "It's charmed so only you can read it, but even my charms can be broken if Voldemort gets involved. Hide it and when you have memorized it, destroy it. Preferably by burning it and flushing the ashes down the loo. Do I make myself clear?"

Percy nodded, and then gave a cautious glance toward Harry and Lupin that turned into a smile when Lupin thanked him profoundly, and Harry's mouth twitched upward. Then he departed.

At long last, Lupin, Dumbledore, and Harry reached the Minister's office, and were met by the one, the only: Dorklores Pain Umbitch.

"YOU BROUGHT THE WEREWOLF!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, "WHY DID YOU BRING THE WEREWOLF?"

"He is merely here to escort us to your office Dolores…" Dumbledore started calmly before being interrupted.

"But the WEREWOLF?"

"I do have a name Ms. Umbridge, and it is not 'werewolf'." Lupin added as politely as he could.

"How dare you!" Umbridge looked as if she had been personally insulted, "You," she pointed a pudgy finger at Lupin, "need to learn how to respect your betters. In fact, all of you do! Let me give you all a little lesson."

She then pulled out a muggle slide projector before continuing to completely weird Harry out.

"Now see here," Umbridge demanded, extinguishing the lights with a flick of her wand while turning on the slide projector. She put in a slide, "First, there is the most important, respected person in society, the top of the food chain: Cornelius Fudge!"

The projector showed a picture of a very regal-looking Fudge. It was supposed, Harry assumed, to make people gaze in awe. He only felt like laughing... or puking.

"Next," Umbridge continued in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers, "There is me!"

She looked so pleased with her picture which depicted her imitating a, what was intended to look like a sexy pose, that Harry had to snort like a maniac behind his hand to avoid doubling over.

"After that it's our closest friends and family." This slide depicted a bunch of snobbish looking pureblood wizards, which included Lucius Malfoy. "And after that, is the purebloods," more pictures of snobbish wizards and witches. "Then there's the halfbloods…"

"Which is where I come in isn't it?" Harry added sarcastically.

"But of course not," Umbridge gave a girlish giggle. "You come later. Now next on the list is the Mudbloods." Harry narrowed his eyes at seeing a picture of Hermione in the slide, "and the Blood Traitors," a picture of the Weasleys (minus Percy) was on this slide, "the Muggles," some confused looking street punks, "the criminals," a picture of Azkaban. "Naturally, I would have put you two," she pointed at Harry and Dumbledore, "in the lunatics category, your pictures are there, see? But you two have a special place further down. Guess who's next!"

"Um… the halfbreeds," Remus tried not to look sullen.

"But, of course not," Umbridge giggled again. "Next there's that nasty little speck of dirt that's been embedded in my big toenail since 1987." Harry cringed at the picture of it, "Then…"

"There's the halfbreeds." Remus said his left eye twitching.

Umbridge glared at him, "As soon as my break comes, I'm putting a restraining order on you. You're lucky the laws don't just let me have you executed! Next up is that annoying wart that I have on my… well; maybe we'll just skip that slide."

"Too late," Harry told her, this time he really _did_ feel like puking. "I'm already scarred for life."

Ignoring him, Umbridge continued, "Then there's the halfbreeds!"

The slide was merely cutouts from Muggle horror movies.

"Which is where I am, right?" Lupin asked, more for the sake of making Umbridge mad then anything.

"Nope!" Umbridge said gleefully, "You, along with Potter and Dumbly here, are in a very special section!"

"So I suppose we are in the next section." Dumbledore had a definite twinkle in his eyes; apparently he was having as hard a time not laughing as Harry was.

Umbridge tsked, "No… see, first there's werewolf poop, then there's you!"

The picture was indeed of Harry, Lupin, and Dumbledore. This time Harry couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. And was still laughing after two minutes of Umbridge asking him what was so funny before finally entering Fudge's office with Dumbledore.

"So, Fudgie, Umbi… bridge," he said leaning onto the Minister's desk, and wiping a tear from his eyes, "How are you today?"

"What do you want," the Minister demanded as Umbridge walked over to stand behind him, her nose in an extremely haughty position.

"Do I really need a reason to stop by and say hello to my two least favorite political figures?" Harry asked, wondering why Dumbledore wasn't trying to control his actions, or the meeting. His two 'least favorite political figures' glared at him, "OK, OK, you caught me. The Headmaster and I want access to the Department of Mysteries and a fair trial for Sirius Black."

"No."

"I thought you'd say that. But see, that answer doesn't sit well with me." Both Fudge and Umbridge shared uneasy looks. "So here's how it's going to be: You don't give us what we want, I explain to the world why the words 'I will not tell lies' is engraved on my right hand."

Fudge and Umbridge gave each other very significant looks before the Minister turned back to Harry, "No, no one will believe you if you do."

"Says who?" Harry asked. "All I have to do is arrange some press conferences, invite some people into a memory of mine using a pensive, remind the world that you've been treating me like a madcap for telling the truth…"

"I get the picture, _kid_," Fudge responded, putting an emphasis on the last word, "But why do you want this? The Department of Mysteries is top secret, and Black is guilty as far as I'm concerned. Even if he is innocent," he snorted at this, "It will only hurt things if we…"

"So basically you're saying that you don't care whether or not you send an innocent man to living hell as long as the Ministry's reputation is in order, as long as _your_ reputation is in order."

"So what if I do? Black is a lunatic, innocent or not."

Harry had to fight to control his anger, but it felt like it was flowing through his veins, scorching them and forcing his blood to boil over. He had an overwhelming urge to scream, and he was sure his head would explode if he held it in much longer. But he surprised himself, and didn't.

"Mr. Fudge," his voice was a forced calm, and he stunned himself with sounding… dangerous. "I'm recording this conversation," that was a lie, but whatever, "The room is bugged. How do you think the wizarding world would react to what you just said? You've been in power for six years, and according to custom, you have four more to go. You wouldn't want that time to be cut short now, would you?"

Dumbledore looked perplexed at Harry's change in tactics. And the two politicians, well, this was definitely something they had not expected. Not only had Harry not freaked out (so they couldn't put him off as a madman), but he'd actually managed to seem in control of everything. Little did they know, Harry was fighting for that control with all the inner strength he could muster.

Seeing as neither Fudge nor Umbridge was answering him, Harry decided to continue, freaking them out seemed to quench his anger a bit. "I know a lot about you, and not even threats of Azkaban will stop me from revealing everything I know to the world. Besides, if you did incarcerate me, how do you think people will react to that? I have friends in high places you two, very high places. Do you want to know why I need Sirius Black to get a fair trial? Because he's my godfather, and until recently, I thought he'd been murdered by Death Eaters. I've been very angry as I'm sure you noticed, and if you don't get me what I want, he may _really _die this time, a death that could've been stopped. How exactly do you think I will respond to that?"

For what seemed like hours but was really about thirty seconds, nothing in the room moved except for the glimmer in Dumbledore's eyes sparkling as he studied Harry. Then Fudge made the first move.

"No. No. NO!"

"Well…" Harry searched his mind for something useful, but ended up saying something completely stupid; or so he thought… "What if I tell people about that Playwizard magazine on your desk?"

The reaction was definitely not what was expected. Both Ministry officials immediately paled and Fudge swept the issue under his desk.

"Ooh… is that the new one? Don't forget to check out page 21!"

Everyone snapped their heads around to see Alastor Moody with a very large bundle of papers.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" Moody asked in a gruff voice that didn't sound sorry at all, "I just came up here to provide the Ministry with information on the Death Eaters. There have been no attacks so far since that one on the Ministry earlier this month. That must mean they're planning something big. CONSTANT VIGA…"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP MAD-EYE AND GET ME A WIZARDING CONTRACT!"

Moody stared at Fudge, "A wizarding contract? But those haven't been used in… Did I here you right?"

"YES!"

Moody threw the papers on Fudge's desk and scurried out of the room, looking over his shoulder as if he expected ninja's to start attacking or something. Harry just stared at Fudge. There was obviously more to that magazine than met the eye. Other than it's… well… usual stuff. Moody reentered the room as shifty-eyed as ever. The Minister didn't bother with anything, just grabbed the charmed document from his hand and started writing furiously on it.

Harry watched in curiosity. He'd heard about these magical contracts. They were charmed to make sure they were never broken. When Fudge was through, Dumbledore messed with it a bit. Fudge glared at the piece of parchment, but reluctantly nodded his approval. It looked something like this:

_**Magical Contract Between:**_

_**Harry James Potter and Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore**_

_**And**_

**_Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Jane Umbridge_**

**_Created on the 20th of June, 1997_**

_The above parties agree to the following:_

_A trial will be provided for the one, Sirius Orion Black by the one, Cornelius Fudge as soon as possible._

_Harry James Potter, Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore, and company shall henceforth be admitted entrance to the Department of Mysteries as of the 21st of June, 1997. _

_Harry James Potter and Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore shall not repeat to anyone the fact that the one, Dolores Jane Umbridge used a Blood Quill in any way, shape, or form._

_All parties will refrain from talking about the Playwizard magazine was spotted on the desk of the Minister of Magic on the 20th of June, 1997_

_Signature _

_Signature _

_Signature _

_Signature _

Harry picked up a quill and signed. Dumbledore followed, as did the rest. Moody had gone, ushered away by Fudge's angry glares, and all four of them just looked at their signatures. They had done it. Now, if one of those promises were broken, the contract would destroy itself, and unless the opposite party said otherwise, the breaker of the contract would die.

Dumbledore broke the silence with a polite, "Good day Minister," before striding towards the door.

Trying their best not to look as elated as they were, Harry and Dumbledore headed out of the office.

"You handled that much better then I expected Harry." Dumbledore told him as they walked towards Percy and Lupin who were currently whispering to each other at the water fountain.

On hearing footsteps, however, both of them jumped and fell into what was obviously an act.

"Um... well, halfbreed," Percy started to say, "I don't agree with you! But you do have a point. Fudge is an excellent Minister... Oh, it's just you guys."

Harry ginned, "You really need to work on your acting skills, Percy."

"I'm a bureaucrat, not an actor."

Remus greeted them warmly, "It was my idea. I, unlike Mr. Weasley here, have needed to put on a lot of acts throughout my life. And I can see through yours, 'Mission Blackmail' went well then?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore smiled, "Harry was excellent. In fact, whether he realizes it or not, he learned something that will become very useful in his later life."

"And what," asked Harry, "Is that?"

"You learned that by keeping your cool, you sound more threatening then you do yelling. Just keep that in mind for the next time you're trying to get your way. It will work with most everyone but me."

A twinkle lit Dumbledore's eyes; it was a merry kind of twinkle. It was as if he were trying to convince you that everything would turn out okay with that twinkle. Harry, however, found it infuriating at the moment.

"I don't like keeping my cool. It's too difficult."

"Practice makes perfect, child."

Calming down the flames that were about to spurt up because the Headmaster had once again referred to him as a child, Harry took a deep breath, but the extra oxygen only seemed to feed the fire. So he opted to hold his breath instead, which didn't seem to work either. It was definitely a good thing for Harry's nerves when Dumbledore left to go contact his brother Aberforth. Percy had to go as well, which left Harry and Lupin with the job of informing some of the other Order members that the mission was a success.

It was a lot easier, Harry thought, doing this than convincing Fudge to do something that had nothing in it for him. Still, it was no walk in the park either. The fact that they had to keep from looking suspicious was easier said than done. Especially since when they told Tonks, she jumped with glee and ended up knocking down the wall of a cubical. But at long last their task was coming to a close. Harry looked at the list of Order members they were to contact. There was only one person left to contact.

"Well then," Remus smiled over at him, "I do believe that's it."

Harry glanced down at the list again, "Nope, we still have to inform Elaina."

"Err… Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, we haven't seen her yet." He looked at Lupin, "What? I thought you liked her."

"It's not that…"

Lupin trailed off. He seemed embarrassed about something.

"This has something to do with Mr. Isaac Fuzzy-Winkles, doesn't it?"

Remus opened his mouth to deny it, but apparently changed his mind midway. "I… I just sounded like a complete moron, okay."

Then something clicked in Harry's mind. And that look Mrs. Weasley had given Lupin that morning actually made sense. Why hadn't he seen it before?

"You like her, don't you?"

"What?"

"Elaina. You like her."

"Well, yes. She's a very nice person to know. I think everyone at the Order liked her."

"No, I mean, you like her-like her."

"Harry! What are you talking about? We've only known each other for twelve hours! You are being ridiculous."

"Look, I know very well a person needs very little time to develop a crush on someone. It took me, like, two seconds of really looking at her to develop a crush on Cho Chang. It didn't really work out, but still…

"Harry, please. It's not only that. It's also the simple fact that these things just don't happen."

"What things?"

Remus threw up his hands in exasperation, "Old, mangy werewolves do not get involved with intelligent, elegant, kind, beautiful, high-ranking Ministry Officials!"

"Okay, now I know you like her."

"What?"

"Nothing… nothing… Let's go."

When they reached Elaina's office, Remus was looking decidedly uncomfortable. Harry's knock was met with a very annoyed sounding 'What now? Just come in already!' from the other side of the door. Opening it, they came upon a sight highly resembling wreckage from a hurricane. Papers were everywhere.

Elaina looked up from signing a very important-looking document and broke into a wide grin, "Remus! Harry! Oh, please come right in! Take a seat, why don't you?"

She waved her wand at the stuff on two of the chairs in the room and they were magically cleared. Harry and Remus took a seat.

"So, how'd it go?" Elaina asked excitedly, putting a silencing charm on the room and conjuring bags of mints which she tossed at Lupin and Harry.

"It was awesome," Harry said. "I'm not really supposed to say stuff about what went on in there, but I can say that tomorrow, we'll all be at the Department of Mysteries!"

Elaina's grin spread and she leapt out of her chair and danced around a bit. Harry grinned too.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

"A victory dance!" she said enthusiastically. "How can I not? Umbitch has been foiled yet again and I'm not in the view of the public eye!"

"And a fine dance it is!" Remus laughed before bowing and jokingly saying, "The fine lady dances with the grace of…"

"An elephant," Elaina finished for him, "I've been blessed with many things throughout my life. Gracefulness is not one of those things."

"You," Lupin said, "are most likely a fine dancer, and have just not taken the time to see."

Elaina laughed at this, "Yeah, sure I am! And I bet Voldemort is secretly in love with Potter here."

Remus shook his head, and then to the surprise of both Elaina and Harry, walked over to her, bowed, and took both of her hands.

"Nonsense. You have plenty of natural grace. I can tell by the way you walk. Just put one hand here… and the other here…"

In less then three minutes, the two of them looked as if they were a pair of royals dancing in a ballroom.

"You have got to teach me some of that," Harry remarked remembering the disastrous Yule Ball. "Maybe then I won't scare away so many girls with my two left feet that way."

Elaina smiled at him as Remus let go of her. "I think I just found Mr. Perfect-Male. Tell me Lupin, can you cook and ask for directions as well?" She laughed again. "Speaking of food, how about you guys join me for lunch? I'm done here anyway. It'll be my treat!"

Harry was just about to turn down the offer. He had, after all, been mooching on a ton of people all his life, especially Mrs. Weasley. He had no idea why so many were nice to him; all he ever did was get in the way.

But just as he was opening his mouth to refuse, Remus beat him to it, replying rapidly and not stopping once for a breath.

"No, no. I just couldn't. Harry can go if he wishes though. I guess I'll go with him if he does, but only as his guard. I don't have much money and couldn't pay you back or anything and you've already helped out at my trial and been really nice to me even though I've been acting like a freak and I think Moody could go he has his lunch break in…"

"Remus!" Elaina interrupted, "There is nothing wrong about the way you act, I have plenty of money. It was Harry that did everything at the trial, and you are so much nicer to have a conversation with than Mad-Eye Moody!" She took a deep breath then turned to Harry, "Besides, Harry wants to go and needs you to protect him… right Harry?"

Harry nearly burst into laughter at the pleading look on Elaina's face. He knew Remus liked her, perhaps the feeling was mutual. On the other hand, she could just _really_ not want to be around Moody. He'd kind-of freaked her out with tales of rabid squirrels the night before. And Remus thought _he_ was weird! Anyhow, Harry decided to play along.

"Yes I do need you Remus," he then fake tripped and made quite a show of moaning on the floor, "Ow! My leg was just mauled by the linoleum flooring! And my shoelace was in on it too! See what grave danger I'm in when you're not around Professor Lupin?"

"Harry," Remus said shaking his head, "You, are pathetic. Get off the floor. I'll go."

* * *

**Questions/Comments:** Email me: (link on my author page)


	9. Preparations

Defending the Light

**Summary:** When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, leave me alone.

BEWARE: Pathetic attempts to write Hagrid speaking are dead ahead.

* * *

"_Harry," Remus said shaking his head, "You, are pathetic. Get off the floor. I'll go."_

Chapter 9: Preparations

Stepping out into the sunny London atmosphere a little while later, Harry glanced over at the two adults accompanying him. While Remus looked nervous, Elaina seemed positively elated to be where she was. Harry couldn't blame her. It was a beautiful day, and it was fun to watch the hordes of people rushing from shop to shop or just hanging out with friends. He sighed softly, no one here knew about Voldemort. That was one thing they all had in common, whether they were giggling teenage girls in bright sundresses, middle aged men in suits on their way to work, or a bunch of people clad all in black despite the heat. No one feared that everyone they ever loved was being targeted by an evil madman. No one here was going to save one of the closest things they had to a real family from a lifelong hell in some godforsaken portal. Harry shook his head to try and clear some of his thoughts, but it didn't help one bit. Killing brain cells wasn't going to do any good.

"Wow," Elaina said excitedly from his right. "This is so neat!"

Lupin raised an eyebrow from Harry's left, "And what, is so intriguing?"

Elaina shrugged, "I've never been in Muggle London before. I grew up in England but I've never been to a big city like this that isn't inhabited purely by high-ranking wizards."

Harry looked between the two again. He remembered what Ginny had said about Lupin sometimes not having a home. He'd probably had to camp out in Muggle London once or twice. And Elaina had obviously grown up in England so sheltered she'd never been anywhere normal. It was no wonder Remus didn't have any hope for anything but a mutual friendship between him and Elaina, whether he liked her, or not. They seemed as if they were both from totally different worlds.

"So where are you from exactly?" Remus asked Elaina. "I can't quite place your accent. At first I thought it was British, but it sounds sort of different. You did mention the colonies but I think I caught a bit of a French accent in your voice as well."

"You certainly have good ears," was the response as they crossed a busy street, Elaina's eyes traveling everywhere. "My heritage is French, and all my family speaks it. My family is influential in France. But I had an English nanny and when I was three my family moved here for business reasons. When I was eleven I went to school in the Americas. I kept moving from Mexico to Canada then back to my relatives in the States faster then You-Know-Who can blink. I was sixteen when You-Know-Who was defeated. I finished school, and for the next eight years I spent my time studying Wizarding Law and training to be an Auror. My family is good friends with Dumbledore so I knew You-Know-Who was coming back, and I wanted to be ready. I've been traveling around the world ever since, getting mixed up in the politics of various nations. But I've always been under some supervision, until now. I'M LOOSE ON THE WORLD, BABY!"

Quite a few Muggles turned to stare at her.

"What kind of supervision?" Harry wanted to know.

"My Grand-mère," she made a face, "I've just managed to convince her that I'm old enough to get along without bodyguards. I'm thirty, for God's sake! Although, I did manage to lose a couple of bodyguards in Monaco once. And I lost this pair in Mexico City for three days because of the crowds and this one three star hotel, which is the last place they'd think to look for me. I'd never stayed in a three star hotel before, it was fun!" She smiled as she relayed her adventure, her eyes sparkling at the memories. "I was able to take perfect care of myself. These guys tried to rob me and I totally kicked their sorry asses, I didn't even use magic! Of course, I had to get back to work at the Mexican Wizarding Government Building, so they found me eventually. Of course, it's nothing compared to your adventures. You two are both so brave fighting You-Know-Who and all."

Harry turned slightly red but Remus blushed to the roots of his tawny-colored hair. Before either of them could start making excuses about why everything they ever did was no more adventurous and courageous then giving a circus clown the middle finger, Elaina interrupted.

'Ooh! Look at that restaurant!"

Harry looked around for the cause to her excitement. He didn't see anything very interesting. Just a couple of novelty shops and some cheep-o fast food joints.

"Um, what restaurant?"

"That one, right there, with the golden arches. People are eating outside, with their hands, in public! Let's do that!"

"What, McDonald's?

"So, that's what it's called! I've seen these places all over the world."

"Figures," Remus laughed, "Large corporations like these can never seem to take the pressure of not having a store or restaurant of their's in every city on earth."

Sitting at an outdoor table painted in garish shades of red and yellow, Harry found he was mostly left out of the conversation. Not that he minded at all, it was kind of fun to just sit and listen to them talk. Lupin had clandestinely put a silencing charm around their table and he and Elaina had delved into a wild array of stories about their adventures, from handling a congressman with a lack of compassion to hunting down Death Eaters with no compassion at all. It seemed that Lupin also had an interest in politics.

"My parents would always say I was a born intellectual, but I was born at the wrong place at the wrong time. I always did seem to end up there," he grimaced. "My mum was a Muggle, Father was a wizard. My father wasn't pureblood though, so some at the Ministry weren't very welcoming towards him. My parents always wanted to send me off to a wizarding college of some sort. But my condition made that notion impossible. It was a miracle I even got into Hogwarts. I always wanted to do something great, get into the Ministry and such. But I love teaching as well and I count myself very lucky to have been a professor at Hogwarts. I even got to teach my favorite subject. I've actually been writing a book on Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it will never get accepted by any publisher in their right mind. Even if I didn't have lycanthropy, the section on werewolves would never be believed, and by no means bought."

"I'd like to read your book someday," Elaina said. "I wish I could help get it published, but my name and small fortune only get me so far. Grand-mère has all the influence in the family until she decides to retire and hand over the family wealth to a younger generation. So Harry," Harry gave a little start at being addressed so suddenly and dropped one of the overly salty chips onto his lap, "Apparently you have quite a few stories to tell as well."

Harry shrugged, "I have had quite a few experiences. There was the Philosopher's Stone in my first year. First time I ever met Voldemort, or at least remember meeting him. In my second year there was the whole Chamber of Secrets crap that was going on and I met Voldemort again, only he was like sixteen and had this really annoying pet basilisk. It turned Hermione to stone; Ron and I were so freaked out. And do you know how long it took us to finish our homework without her? And in my third year, well, I met Sirius then, which was great. But everyone thought he was out to murder me and he ended up getting captured and Hermione and I broke about a zillion laws rescuing him. And don't even get me started on fourth year. The Triwizard Tournament was a complete disaster. And Voldemort naked is not something you would want to see, trust me. It was even worse then being tied to some bloody tombstone. And the Cruciatus Curse! But this last year was the worst, just sitting there not learning a thing in Umbitch's classes while Voldemort was on the loose and the Ministry ignored everything as they tried to demerit me and Dumbledore. And then there was the whole incident with the Department of Mysteries… I mean, why me? Sorry… I'm rambling…" Harry had to stop himself and take a deep breath.

"Holy crap,' Elaina breathed her eyes wide, "And I thought the stuff in that unauthorized biography about you was wild. But this…"

"What is this about a basilisk and meeting Voldemort in your first year?" Lupin interrupted, "Dumbledore told me a little bit and I just suspected you'd had a run in with Quirrell who ended up being a Death Eater and somehow informed Dumbledore of your suspicions that he was trying to steal the stone. And didn't you discover the Chamber of Secrets and nothing else? You have a lot of explaining to do Harry. How is it you could even see Voldemort if he had no body."

"Um… because he possessed Quirrell's body and his head was in the back of Quirrell's. Ugly as sin it was too."

Lupins grip became so tight; he started crushing the ice in his cup, "You _really_ have a lot of explaining to do."

"Can't you just ask Dumbledore?"

"I'd rather hear it from you," Lupin responded, "But you don't have to say anything now." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "You can wait until Sirius is back so you can explain it to both of us."

Harry felt his mouth drop open.

"What? Hell no, he'll go totally nutters!"

"We will speak of this later," Lupin sighed.

"Yeah, OK." Harry said, not really wanting to get mad at his favorite ex-professor, and turning towards Elaina. "So, why don't we discuss this unauthorized biography that has been floating around without my knowledge…"

As he and Remus entered Grimmauld place (Elaina had to head back to the Ministry), it took a few moments for Harry's eyes adjust to the dim quarters. After a couple seconds of seeing spots he was, once again, engulfed in a hug from Mrs. Weasley. After being pointed in the direction of Ron and Hermione, Harry found himself in the drawing room. It had changed since he'd last seen it. A decorative quilt covered the Black Family Tree and the walls had been painted a light shade of green.

"Oi, mate! What took you so long?" Ron asked from the chess set that had been set up on one side of the room.

Harry shrugged and flopped down on the couch. "Dumbledore had another job for Professor Lupin and me afterwards. Then Elaina invited us to lunch."

"So the mission went well then," Hermione grinned, "That's just wonderful Harry…"

"Checkmate."

"Not again!"

Harry's mouth twitched, "Getting your arse whipped by Ron again?" he asked her.

"Figures," Hermione replied. "Well, I'd better get started on homework. I usually have it half done by now."

Harry and Ron then proceeded to watch in disbelief as she grabbed her school bag and flopped on the floor with half a dozen books, a quill and ink, and about two meters of parchment.

"You're crazy," was all Ron had to say on the matter as he joined Harry on the couch and began throwing and catching a small ball with one hand.

"Harry! You're back!" Ginny bounded into the room, "I saw Professor Lupin and wondered where you were. I heard everything went really good, and that you did wicked awesome at everything. I want to hear all about it."

Apparently Ron and Hermione wanted to hear about it too, as no one stopped bugging him until he'd given every detail he could without breaking the contract. Everyone had burst into gales of laughter on hearing about Umbridge's ridiculous chart. Especially on learning they were included in it. Hermione, in particular, seemed to be pleased about that. He also ended up telling them about Elaina and the lunch.

"She went to a school in the colonies?" Hermione seemed quite excited about it. "I wonder which one. I read all about wizarding schools from all over the world in fourth year."

"You've already met people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, why do you need to learn more about other schools?" Ron asked exasperatedly.

Hermione looked annoyed as she raised her head from her paper, "Because schools in other continents happen to be different from each other Ronald. There is one school in every portion of the States, according to Great Educational Institutes of the Wizarding World. Do you think she went to the Salem Academy, located on the east coast? Or perhaps the Pocus Institute in the Rocky Mountains? Or Jefferson… is anyone even listening to me?"

"Huh?"

Harry and Ginny snickered as Hermione shot a glare at Ron.

"Maybe if you stopped playing with that silly little ball…"

"I'm honing my Quidditch skills! This is coordination I'm practicing here…"

Luckily, Harry and Ginny were saved another argument when Professor Lupin walked in. He looked tired and stressed, but happy. Very, very happy.

"Hello there. Oh, have you been playing chess?"

Ron shrugged, "Yeah, kind of. Hermione was playing me a while ago." He grinned triumphantly at her, "I won."

Lupin laughed as Hermione stuck out her tongue at Ron, "How are you at the game?"

"I'm OK," Ron replied grinning mischievously, "and you?"

"Fair, I suppose," Remus said giving a grin that matched Ron's in impishness.

"Want to play?"

"I've nothing to lose."

An hour later while Remus and Ron were still dueling over the same game of chess, Elaina showed up, along with Bill and Charlie, to inform them all that another Order meeting was to be held that night.

"Remind me never to play chess with either of you." Elaina joked another two hours later.

All games previously had lasted long and ended in draws. They were now on their third game, and both were determined to win. Harry went back to thinking about Sirius. Would he survive much longer? Would this Aberforth have the rope? What if Fudge did something to stop them? What would happen if…

"CHECKMATE!"

Harry looked up to see Ron jumping up and down in elation.

Lupin looked positively baffled, "I have never been beaten at chess before," he said looking down at the board. "You play a good game, Ron!"

All of a sudden the door swung open to reveal the one and only Albus Dumbledore who, as usual, started speaking before the words 'What the hell, don't you ever knock?' could be uttered or even thought.

"The meeting is about to begin. Let us proceed to the basement."

Harry was all too jittery. He was going to do something important, and Dumbledore was going to let him. Sure he'd have supervision, but still...

Everyone was soon heading through the door. The Weasley's getting into a usual sibling shuffle and all trying to exit the room at once. Harry eyed the walls of the eroding mansion. It was improving. Yet the foreboding sense of the fates of all who once lived there would not leave. He twitched instinctively at a creaky floorboard from above. Damned Muggle ghost stories. It was probably just Kreacher pacing around the attic. According to Ron, he'd been avoiding everyone. Yet every morning it was obvious that someone had been trying (and sometimes succeeding) to tear down the quilt in front of the Black Family Tree.

Treading quietly through the front hall and down the basement stairs, Harry saw many more faces in the milling crowd of Order members then he'd met last night, or ever. Men and women of mixed nationalities mingled in the room, attired in many types of robes. The original old English tradition of wearing black robes seemed entirely obsolete in other countries. Harry doubted it would last much longer in England. Tonks never seemed adaptable to any color that wasn't florescent.

But they were all the same, in a way. Harry smiled silently to himself, feeling much better then he had in Muggle London. Everyone here was fighting for the same thing, an end to the Dark Lord. And there were about a hundred and fifty of them. It was then that Harry realized why the meetings were always held in the basement. It was obviously expanding. He looked around at a young Japanese couple, the woman exasperatedly rolling her eyes at the man, and some young Russian guy hitting on Tonks who had enlarged her bosom to a size that looked much too large for her small frame. Meanwhile, Charlie scowled at her next to a Romanian he was most likely complaining to about the opposite sex. And all around people laughed and joked with each other, trying to forget for a moment about Voldemort. Oh yes, they were most certainly the same in many, many ways. And abruptly, Harry felt more at home among these strangers then he ever had at the Dursley's.

Hagrid was among those gathered and came rushing up to grab the trio and Ginny into an enormous hug.

"'Arry, Ron, 'Ermione, Ginny!" he exclaimed joyously as he let them all down. "It's so good ter see yer all! Isn't this just fine? Sirius is coming back ter us all."

"I know!" Harry replied, "You seem to be in a particularly good mood today. Madam Maxime isn't around anywhere, is she?"

"Olympe is right 'oer there," Hagrid pointed to the graceful half-giant, "I think she's run otta punch. S'cuse me while I go refill 'er cuppa."

"No wonder," Ron whispered to Harry, "Look how small that cup is compared to her!"

Giving his friend a covert smile, Harry sat down at the long table that was currently enchanted to seat however many were in the room. Soon, others were taking there seats as well. Tonks ended up being caught off balance by her chest and crashed into the table as she set down. Harry looked over at the man sitting across from him, a strange bloke, the hood of his cloak pulled up so far you couldn't see his face.

"Welcome all," Dumbledore began, "To this very important meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. The meeting is now in session. Mr. Snape, would you care to start us out on what Voldemort is up to?"

It wasn't really a question, but a demand.

"The Dark Lord claims to have gotten a new lead on the Book. I do not believe, however, that he knows how to use this new lead. He has asked all Death Eaters to keep a low profile. As you all know, the Ministry is trying to downplay the enemy, giving the message to the public that the forces are not as strong as they once were. The Dark Lord wishes this to continue. This must be stopped, underestimating the enemy is the worst thing one can do. A women was murdered today, a Muggleborn shopkeeper. The government will try to cover this up; we must make sure this is covered in all the papers. I also have reason to accept as true the suspicion that the Dark Lord is making something, and a lot of it. But very few have access to that knowledge."

Dumbledore nodded, "You have done well, Severus. In what condition is the murdered woman?"

"Not good. She was found by some Aurors but her family hasn't been informed yet. She took a hard hit on her head. Skull's got a 20 centimeter crack in it. Half her arm is missing skin on it. Apparently the attackers were attempting to skin her alive but ran off and put her out of her misery early."

Hermione looked like she was going to vomit; Ron and Ginny had gone pale. Harry felt his stomach churn as well. He also felt a new rush of guilt. His blood, it had been his blood…

Dumbledore sighed, "We shall discuss the victim later. As well as what has been going on with Voldemort. Severus, you will repeat everything you've heard while on duty. But first we must take care of other matters. Tomorrow as I'm sure you've all figured out by now, Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, and I shall enter the Veil in the Department of Mysteries to retrieve a member. Harry, have you been preparing for this?"

As all eyes turned on him, Harry didn't feel as 'at home' as he had moments before, "I've been studying over the summer and my backpack is ready. Do I need anything else?"

"No, Mr. Potter, I believe you are prepared enough. I have talked with Aberforth and he will meet us at the Ministry at ten o'clock tomorrow. He will have the rope with him. According to James Potter, we must follow our hearts. I suppose we will find out what that means upon entering. Now about the problem with Fudge… Percy, would you care to enlighten us?"

Harry snapped his head up to the man across the table who nervously lowered his hood, and looked into the face of Percy Weasley. Percy didn't stop to acknowledge anyone in the room, just started talking, words gushing from him. And at the end, he looked up.

"And that's all I know."

Percy looked pleadingly around the room at the faces staring incredulously at him as if willing them to smile. Or anything. His mum was, Harry noted, but all the rest of the Weasley's remained stony faced. Glancing from Percy to his family, Harry's thoughts were once again interrupted by Dumbledore who passed him a Muggle dry erase board.

"Now Harry, you are to write on this. Do not speak one word until I tell you. Don't worry, I'm doing it too."

Harry tried very hard to ignore the fact that Dumbledore's board was 2 by 3 meters while his was much smaller and the Headmaster's pen was writing by itself.

**_I discovered this in the Minister's office._**

Harry almost gasped; it was the Playwizard Magazine. Everyone else just looked disgusted, but Harry knew better. If the Headmaster had gotten suspicious too, it must mean… Harry started to open his mouth but remembering the contract, grabbed the dry erase board and wrote:

_How did you get that?_

He held up the sign, but Dumbledore ignored him and just kept on talking… or, well… writing.

**_The magazine is cursed, I'm sure of it. I noticed the Minister acted quite suspicious when it was mentioned. I assume he chose this particular magazine for the scandalous contents to keep others out of it. When read by anyone but him, it appears an average July issue. However, after some experiments, it was revealed to have information written in it that is most likely extremely important to Mr. Fudge. I'm not sure how long it will take to unravel this important piece of evidence to the Minister's actions, if it can be unraveled at all, but it will become critical to try. Megumi, you have access to the department of Mysteries in Japan, can you try some experiments on this to see what you can find? _**

♦

_**La revista es…**_

Dumbledore's pen then began writing the exact same thing in a plethora of different languages as the room started to buzz excitedly. Resolving himself to the fact he was just going to be ignored, Harry erased his board. Harry sighed.

"_Dumbledore was the one who had discovered the magazine? He wouldn't have even noticed the damn thing if I had mentioned it," Harry thought glumly, "The man never gives me credit for anything anymore. I'm his puppet, his big pathetic puppet that saved his friggin' job in second year because he couldn't handle a stupid little snake…_"

Harry knew he was being unfair but he couldn't help it. Not to mention the basilisk had been anything but 'little.' He distracted himself by listening to the meeting progress.

After more speculation on the Playwizard, the main topic for the meeting went elsewhere. From those who could afford to accompany them to the Department of Mysteries the next day, to reports on the workings of the French, Spanish, Romanian, Chinese, Japanese, American, and about twenty more different Ministries. All reports on Death Eater suspects and sightings were also being reviewed. Harry soon became absorbed in the meeting, as did Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Ron seemed particularly interested in the plans for different military strategies in case of surprise Death Eater attacks. Hermione got most into the search for the book and the different magical experiments that could be done to find new information on anything and everything. Ginny appeared drawn to different kinds of spells and weaponry being invented on both the light and dark sides. Harry got completely immersed in everything.

This, he knew, was where he belonged. He may not be saying anything or doing much, but he felt a part of it. And he had a strange desire to take over the meeting himself. Forget Dumbledore, he could just see himself running an organization like this. But deep down, Harry knew he was not ready to manage anything of this capacity. And he probably couldn't take on anything without Dumbledore there to guide him. His powers were strong, but nowhere near the gargantuan aptitude of other more powerful wizards. Even Mr. Weasley could overpower him easily, he was sure. How he was still alive, Harry had no idea. He supposed it was luck, pure luck (and maybe a bit of wandless magic) that had gotten him through.

But he would soon learn he was wrong in many of those aspects.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley who tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He glanced at the clock then back at her warm face, which, he realized for the first time, seemed to have lost a lot of its roundness, and looked more tired and drawn than ever.

"_Has this meeting really been going on for two and a half hours?_" he wondered.

The assembly was winding down now. The final details were being recounted and everyone was being interviewed and questioned in case any hints of anything were missed. Mundungus was asleep and Harry also found a little respect for Snape, only a little. But if Harry had a choice, he _supposed_ he'd prefer to not feed his Potions Master to a starving thestral.

Molly handed Ron a large paper bag and shooed the teenagers upstairs. With one last longing look towards the ending conference, Harry relented. The trip up to Harry and Ron's room seemed to take a lot less time then it had then those two and a half hours before walking downstairs from the drawing room. Harry's mind was wheeling faster then it had been all day. As he and his friends once again flopped down onto the bed, they all sat in silence for a moment.

"Wow," Hermione finally managed to say.

And as Ron just nodded and opened the grocery bag which was full of food courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, Harry decided he couldn't agree more.

Yet another hour had passed and Harry found himself staring at the sky. It was streaked with so many colors. Pink and purple, blue and just a hint of gold. Those colors reflected off the windows of dozens of buildings that shone in the distance. London truly was a beautiful place. And the sky was such a beautiful thing. How was Sirius? How did he live without sight of the sky for so long?

Maybe, just maybe, he would end up a free man, and see a sky like this again. And maybe Dumbledore would tell Harry he never had to go to the Dursley's again, and he could live here, with Sirius, and Lupin could move in permanently. They'd fix the place up even more, and Harry could have his own room. They'd turn the musty old place into a home. All the Order members could come over for breakfast whenever they wanted. He could make breakfast for everyone and maybe Sirius would hug him like Mrs. Weasley had. He kinda liked being praised like that, even if it was a bit hard to get used to. Then perhaps Voldemort would just drop dead and all expectations set on his shoulders would be whisked away and his scar could disappear and he'd be himself. Just Harry, no expectations, no Boy-Who-Lived crap hanging over his head, just Harry and nobody else…

"Harry? Harry!"

Harry was snapped out of his reverie by Ginny whose hand was now on his head checking his temperature after about a minute of waving a hand in front of his face to no affect. She was giving off such a perfect imitation of Mrs. Weasley, that Harry couldn't help the slow, upward motion of his mouth.

"And what," Ginny smiled back at him, relieved her friend hadn't gone comatose or something, "is so funny?"

"Nothing," Harry replied. "I was just thinking. It's going to be murder going to sleep tonight. I'm way too worked up."

"I know what you mean," Hermione replied, "It usually helps if I read though. Here, why don't I get a few books for you?"

Before anyone could say anything she was off, dashing out of the room to retrieve some of her precious books.

"Books?" Ron gasped incredulously. "I thought she was trying to help you _relax_!"

Harry laughed, "Well Ron, some people can get relaxed by reading. As long as they're not schoolbooks or anything, they can sometimes take you to an entirely different world. It's kind of nice sometimes."

Ron just shook his head as Hermione bounded back in with two paperback fantasies. Harry scanned the titles: The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien and The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan.

Ron laughed, "What are these? Some of those Muggle books about magic?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Both of these books, for your information, are pure genius! I would have brought you some of Agatha Christie's books, but I've already lent all the ones I brought over to Tonks. And Ginny's reading Pride and Prejudice right now so I just grabbed what was closest. Would you prefer I go …"

This time it was Harry's turn to laugh, "These are fine Hermione! I've already read Pride and Prejudice when I was, like, nine." At the disbelieving look on Ron's face he added, "It involves an extremely boring day, an overdue library book of Aunt Petunia's, and a hall closet." Harry refrained from mentioning that he had been locked in the hall closet (at least it had a light) with said library book for over twenty-four hours before Vernon let him out. "It REALLY wasn't my thing. Not to mention I read this boxed set of Hercule Poirot books Dudley got once, then ignored. Besides, I've already read The Hobbit, which was another book of Dudley's that he ignored. I've always wanted to read the other books Tolkien has written. I've never heard of this, Wheel of Time series, though."

Once again Harry refrained from mentioning something, like the fact he wasn't allowed to enter public places like libraries to actually get the books. Oh, well…

"Excellent!" Hermione squealed, "Harry, I had no idea you read so much! You can be reading buddies with Ginny and I now!"

Harry grinned mischievously at her, "No thanks, I think I'll stick with sane people."

There are certain times in one's life in which one laughs like a maniac for the stupidest reasons imaginable. For Ron and Harry, this, happened to be one of those times.

"Reading buddies!" they kept exclaiming again and again. "Woo-hoo! Nerds ahoy! Reading buddies!"

Ginny raised her eyebrow as Hermione sniffed, "We're the ones who aren't sane?"

It took another five minutes after the girls left to stop laughing. And when they finally did, they still had the occasional after effects in which they would burst out in hysterics if the room was silent for too long. After a while they got tired though. Harry started on The Fellowship of the Ring and Ron began reading a new magazine that had recently come out: _Quidditch Quarterly_.

Ron fell asleep a lot sooner then Harry did. Harry heaved a sigh; he wasn't going to drift off anytime soon. It was eleven o'clock and he had given up on both books. The characters were in situations way too similar to his. Forced into something because of fate or prophesy or whatever. Hermione didn't know that of course, but she might as well have given Sirius "Escape from Alcatraz" to watch, or the Count of Monte Cristo to read. Harry couldn't help chuckling at the thought of Lupin watching "My Life as a Teenage Werewolf", now _that_ would be amusing. Dudley watched it during a sleepover one year and the bloody thing was so off it was all Harry could do to keep from cracking a rib laughing about it. Piers Polkiss had given him a look that clearly said 'you're mental', and Dudley had thrown a vase at him.

Thoughts of Lupin reminded him of the wolfsbane potion. Harry grabbed it out of his backpack and crept towards Lupin's room. He quietly opened the door to find his former professor sleeping so soundly he doubted a marching band could wake him. Harry slowly levitated the potion to the resting werewolf's nightstand before heading back to his room.

Harry lay on the bed for another half an hour, staring at the ceiling until turning his attention towards the candle on his bedside table. The flames could seem merry and dancing one moment, then dark and menacing at the next.

"_Kind of like life,"_ he figured.

Fire was a beautiful thing, with the power to create and comfort. Yet fire could also destroy. Humans seemed to be doing an awful lot of destroying lately. But in Harry's opinion, people were also playing with fire a lot recently. And if they weren't careful the entire world could be consumed in flame. And the existence of everything he held dear seemed to be teetering… burning, on the edge of a blade.

Harry blew out the candle.

"_Will the human race be blown out by something greater than us all?"_ was the last thing Harry thought, before exhaustion finally overtook him, and he too, fell into a deep sleep.

_Light_

_Reflects off the edge of the blade_

_I pray it means hope and salvation_

_But then_

_Darkness takes over the sword_

_Was that spark, my imagination?_

_Is there hope, for this world?_

_It teeters on the edge of a blade_

_Is there faith?_

_Left here_

_There's plenty of darkness_

_Yet no sign of shade_

_As I'm burning_

_Burning_

_Burning on the edge of a blade_

_Hate_

_Reflects from the eyes of men_

_And I pray it's not too late_

_But then_

_That light comes again to the blade_

_But it's gone in a flash_

_And I can't take this darkness anymore_

_Is there hope, for this world?_

_It teeters on the edge of a blade_

_Is there faith?_

_Left here_

_There's plenty of darkness_

_Yet no sign of shade_

_As I'm burning_

_Burning_

_Burning on the edge of a blade_

_My Life_

_Teeters on the edge of a blade_

_I'm engulfed_

_In flame_

_And I don't think I can keep my balance much longer_

_Is there hope, for this world?_

_It teeters on the edge of a blade_

_Is there faith?_

_Left here_

_There's plenty of darkness_

_Yet no sign of shade_

_As I'm burning_

_Burning_

_Burning on the edge of a blade_

_Light_

_Reflects off the edge of the blade_

Harry awoke at eight the next morning to a triumphant, "I KNEW IT!" from Hermione.

Sitting up groggily, the reluctant Boy-Who-Lived looked around the room to see Hermione with a very pleased expression on her face. Ginny was cracking up with a supporting hand on the edge of his bed and Ron was turning as red as his hair.

"What?" Harry asked blearily.

Hermione turned towards him, "Ginny and I caught Ron red-handed with his nose in The Fellowship of the Ring. I knew no one could resist the amazing works of J.R.R. Tolkien!"

"It wasn't my fault," Ron whined. "I woke up at four in the morning to go to the bathroom and I just picked it up and scanned through it and… the bloody thing's addicting!"

His claim only made Ginny laugh more, and Harry found himself joining her.

"Are you going to be a reading buddy now Ron?" Harry asked through choked laughter.

Which, of course, made Ron start laughing as well, so when Mrs. Weasley entered the premises, she was yet again confronted with a bunch of red-faced teens.

"Breakfast time!" She called with a smiling face, "Percy spent the night, so he's here too; be nice, Ron. I've already had to confiscate those preposterous Weasley Wizards Wheezes from your brothers; I don't need my little prefect acting up as well."

As Mrs. Weasley left, Harry grinned at Ron, "Her 'little prefect'?"

But Ron wasn't smiling at all; in fact, he and Ginny had both gone stony faced.

"Oh, come on, you guys," Harry said. "He's not that bad! He just made a mistake and turned into a bit of a berk for a while."

"Oh, so giving information about Fudge is going to automatically make me forgive the bloody prat!"

"Just because he was being a wanker for a while doesn't mean _you_ have to turn into one!"

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?" Ginny bellowed.

It was surprising to hear such a loud sound coming out of such a petite girl. Harry had to blink a few times to make sure it was really Ginny who had uttered the words.

Said petite girl took a deep breath and continued, "Harry's right, Ron. He deserves a second chance!"

"He made mum cry, Ginny," Ron glared at her.

"I'm not daft Ronald; just give him a bloody chance!"

"KIDS! DO YOU WANT BREAKFAST OR NOT?" Tonks called from downstairs, "OH, BOLLOCKS!"

Mrs. Black's portrait had started going off at her yell.

"TONKS," Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard shouting, "WHEN I SAID 'TELL THE KIDS TO GET DOWNSTAIRS FOR BREAKFAST' I MEANT ACTUALLY GO UPSTAIRS AND TELL THEM! NOT YELL AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS!"

Some scrambling could be heard and by the time the foursome reached the bottom of the stairs, Percy and Charlie were just managing to pull the curtain over the portrait.

"That was Black's mother?" Percy asked his brother in bewilderment.

Charlie just glared, "What's it to you, little bro? You haven't seemed to care very much about anyone's mum lately."

Harry watched as Percy dejectedly trudged after his older brother, his ears going pink like Ron's did sometimes. Harry and the gang followed them to the basement. Once downstairs, Ginny started giving everyone hugs just to annoy Ron.

"Morning Mum, morning Dad. Morning Bill, Charlie… Percy."

As she hugged Percy, Ron made an audible chocking noise. Percy looked just as surprised at being hugged by Ginny as anyone else in the room. Then, his little sister turned on him.

"DON'T EVER DO THAT TO US AGAIN!" she yelled at Percy, before slapping him on the face.

Harry scratched his head, he'd never really gotten to know Ginny very well since last year, but one thing was for sure: _"Ginny Weasley is quite a character. Thank Merlin she got over that stupid obsession with me."_

Harry looked around at the girls in the room. _Girls_. He doubted he'd ever find time to even think about women again. Not that he'd want to. Cho had made his life a disaster at the end of last year. But he supposed it had been partially his fault as well. No one would want to put up with their boyfriend having to defeat some bleeding Dark Lord. Harry shook his head to try and clear his mind. He _really_ needed to knock it off with all the brooding.

Harry sat down at the table and started serving himself, when, not two minutes after he'd sat down, Lupin bounded into the room, a dubious expression on his face. One glance at his hand and Harry knew exactly what he was so shocked about. The Wolfsbane Potion.

"Who… how…" Remus stuttered, "How did this get on my nightstand?"

Mrs. Weasley's eye's widened, "I don't know dear! Did someone buy it for you?"

Lupin shook head in disbelief, "No, someone _made_ it, I can tell. It's a perfectly good potion but how did it get in _my_ room? No one would or could have made it for me, it's too difficult."

"_That bloody potion sure was difficult,"_ Harry thought as he scooped up some oatmeal before saying, "Don't look at Ron and me. We'd have blown up the house if we tried to make _that_."

Ron laughed and voiced his agreement. Harry tried to tell himself that he wasn't lying, he almost did blow up Privet Drive, and if Ron had been helping him he probably would have. Lupin was trying desperately to figure out who did it so he could find some way to pay them back. That was until Hermione pointed out that whoever made the potion probably didn't want to be paid back, and would feel a lot better if he'd just take the potion and shut up.

And so the day began, the day that would forever change the life of Harry James Potter, in more ways than one.

In many, many more ways than one.

At precisely ten o'clock that morning, Harry, for the third day in a row, found himself in the Ministry of Magic. This time, there was a crowd gathered outside the door of the Department of Mysteries. The Weasley's were there (claiming to the Ministry that they just wanted to support Harry) and Percy was there as well (claiming to the Ministry he was spying on the Order for them). Hermione was there also as were quite a few other members. Fudge was in attendance as well; at least he was keeping quiet. Apparently the Minister thought himself above conversing with blood traitors and lunatics. He really was spending _way_ too much time with Umbridge. Harry glanced at a clock across the hall, wondering when Dumbledore would arrive so they could just get on with it.

Then, lo and behold, he arrived. With him was a very stringy looking old bloke with a long gray beard and a grungy look to him. He came across as oddly familiar…

"You're the barman from The Hogshead!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry did a double take. It _was_ the bartender from The Hogshead.

"Ah yes," the man answered, "Aberforth Dumbledore, at or not at your service depending on the time, place, and of course my own personal decision."

Harry remembered being reminded of someone when he last saw Aberforth, and now he knew why. The other Dumbledore brother's eyes may be a deep brown instead of blue, yet they twinkled like no tomorrow. Harry almost groaned, _not another annoying old man to boss him around_. And he seemed crazy to boot.

"Now," said Aberforth pulling a rope out of an old tattered bag that seemed to be growing mold (McGonagall sniffed), "This is what we need."

The rope, Harry noticed, was no ordinary rope at all. For one thing, it was gold and appeared to be glowing.

"Yes, yes," Aberforth continued at the awestruck looks on the faces of others, "Mananaconal, quite magical. Shiny too. Very shiny, yes. One of you must keep an eye out for something shiny, and when you find it, don't tell. Shiny things are valuable. Now stop acting like a bunch of Antarctic Conger Penguins and get moving."

"Ah, yes," the Headmaster replied, "We must get moving. Yet I wonder, what are Antarctic Conger Penguins?"

"How the hell would I know?" was Aberforth's only reply.

Ron gave Harry a look, "This guy's completely mental! You think he's on something?"

"Absobloodylutely," was all Harry could think to say at the moment.

Harry's lack of words wouldn't have mattered anyway, however, as some flustered Ministry officials and a couple of Aurors came running up.

"Minister Fudge," one of them exclaimed, "Something strange is happening. Some very complicated wand-magic has been detected in the atrium. And we think someone is sneaking around in the abandoned upper level. One of the men renovating it said he heard quite a few people clambering around. We think you need to come with us, perhaps you should come too Mr. Dumbledore, sir. We may need you."

Dumbledore nodded, "I shall come. Aberforth, why don't you join the others and get set up. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Time, place and personal decision in mind, I do believe I can be at your service Albus. Come now everyone. We mustn't keep young Mr. Black waiting. And beware of Madam Malkin at the end of next month. She shall have a nasty fuss about her shop, most likely her time of the month. Now where was I?"

Everyone could only stare at Aberforth. He had to be the oddest man alive the way he kept rambling on about the strangest things and giving pieces of advice that were completely vague and full of nonsense. (Why would you want to remember the words _'Accenium Delictiwingdom'_? It wasn't even a spell). But it was better than walking in silence Harry supposed. He wondered what was going on in the upper level of the Ministry. Nothing Dumbledore couldn't handle, he was sure. He'd seen the bloke take on Voldemort himself and come out unharmed. When they reached the place of the veil, the stone benches running menacingly around the room, Harry looked at Aberforth expecting to be given orders.

"What are you looking at me like that for, Potter? You seem to be second to my brother in this mission-thing. Give some orders already!" Aberforth barked at him so suddenly Harry was afraid he'd fall over from shock.

Harry stared at him, "What?"

"Oh, come on Potter don't tell me you've never given orders before! Now tell everyone to tie that rope to something and set up camp, they might be here for a while."

"Um… tie the rope to something, something sturdy. And set up camp or whatever."

Aberforth sighed, "Such a natural talent, wasted because of too little practice. What has my brother been teaching you?"

Harry couldn't help but glare at the older man, "At least they did what I said."

Instead of chastising him as Harry expected, Aberforth grinned, "Excellent, you do contain some spunk, then. I have something for you, here."

Harry looked at what Aberforth was handing him. It was an ordinary paper bag. The small kind kids will sometimes carry school lunches in. He took it in his hands.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Both the male and female genitalia of goats."

Harry nearly dropped the bag right then and there.

"Don't worry," Aberforth comforted merrily. "No harm done to either goat. I've done plenty of experiments on this sort of thing. It's amazing what you can do combining cloning and magic. I would never have hurt Herbert or any other goat. I'm a vegetarian you know. You should come over to my place sometime; I make a mean tofu burger! Keep that bag safe now, you may need it someday."

Harry had no idea why he would need goat's privates; he figured he may desperately need some aspirin later on though. Putting the bag in his backpack so not to look rude throwing it away right there and then, Harry decided if he was going to be in charge, he was going to do things right.

"Is the rope all set up?" he asked Dedalus Diggle who seemed to just be finishing up putting some extra spell-work on the rope which had been attached to one of the benches.

"All set," was the answer.

Harry nodded, then walked over to Lupin who was standing next to the archway, about an inch away from the tattered black veil that fluttered ever so slightly, as if someone inside were running their fingers across it.

"Nervous?" he asked Harry.

"Not for myself." Harry replied, "I just hope we're not too late."

"Me too," Lupin said sadly. "I hate just standing here waiting like this. But patience is a virtue, I suppose."

"So you're both ready, are you?" Aberforth leapt up, raising an eyebrow.

"Ready as we'll ever be, I suppose," Harry responded as he continued to gaze at the threadbare black mass before them.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

That was the last thing Harry heard before Aberforth pushed both him and Lupin into the Veil before leaping in himself, Mananaconal rope in hand.

And after that, all he knew was darkness.

* * *

**Questions/Comments:** Email me:


	10. Diamonds in the Veil

Defending the Light

**Summary:** Harry makes up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, with no idea it'll include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, Azkaban, exotic new powers, and… a secret identity? Will he be able to keep his secrets without losing everything else?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

I have changed my penname. I hope it didn't cause any difficulties.

* * *

_That was the last thing Harry heard before Aberforth pushed both him and Lupin into the Veil before leaping in himself, Mananaconal rope in hand._

_And after that, all he knew was darkness. _

Chapter 10: Diamonds in the Veil

The first thing Harry noticed was the pure blackness. Everything was swirling black and it made him dizzy. The world was spinning and all there was, was nothing. Nothing. Nothingness. But he could see himself. There it was, a hand. Whose hand? His hand. Bright as day, there it was. But where was Lupin? Aberforth? He saw them; they looked fuzzy. Lupin took a step closer. He was paler then usual. Hey, he could see him fine now. Aberforth took a step closer. Unlike Lupin, he looked perfectly calm and collected.

Brushing off his robes as if he normally visited portals between worlds, Aberforth said, "Next time I do this, I may bring a stepladder. Or perhaps not. Falling is quite enjoyable in my opinion."

Harry felt anger boil inside of him again. He had just been pushed into an unknown portal by a total lunatic, and he was not happy about it.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YOU DO THAT FOR!" He yelled at Dumbledore's younger brother.

"Alas," was Aberforth's reply, "You ask why in your world. Yet you are not in your world. When you are with me, you are in my world, and in my world even the most impossible can be deemed true. You have been warned. Here, not everything is as it seems. Now stop paying so much attention to what you see in here, and start paying attention to what you feel."

"I can sense him," Harry nearly jumped at the discovery, "Sirius is that way."

"I can sense him too," Lupin responded, a hint of awe in his voice.

"Ah yes," Aberforth said as if he had not a care in the world, "You can sense magical auras in here. Of course, you have to have met the person to sense their aura. That is good. We do not want to get separated in here. Now Mr. Potter, if you would lead on…"

"Lead on," Harry growled at the other man, "you want me to lead on? Well if you're so keen on me being the leader, do what I say and give me that rope so Professor Lupin and I can climb up it. Then, if you still feel like doing what I say I may let you come on up too so you can go get the Headmaster down here!"

Even as the words left Harry's mouth he regretted them. But they did need Dumbledore, the more sane brother that is, to help them out with this. The last time Harry had tried to take control of a situation Sirius had ended up stuck in here; he didn't want to risk that happening again.

"My brother," Aberforth replied, "Will not be done for a while, I think. And it will be most beneficial to the fate of the world if we continue."

Harry fought for control, "Every little thing I do, will not affect the fate of the world."

Aberforth only gazed at him as if he were assessing his spirit, "I wouldn't be too sure of that Mr. Potter. Everything in life eventually connects to something else. Like a pattern on a quilt, one thread put out of place may impinge on rest of the weave, no matter how small it may seem. And you, I have conviction, are not a small filament in this world, no matter how hard you pretend to be."

Lupin glanced from Harry to Aberforth, obviously wondering when to step in.

"I am not a piece of thread to be woven about into some quilt," Harry shot back at Aberforth.

"Then why," came the offset, "do you wish to allow my brother to have his way with you when you have the perfect excuse to do whatever you want and take control? Is your self-esteem really that low Mr. Potter?" Aberforth then gave a sigh that truly sounded affectionate, "Ah, Albus. He always did like gaining control, and I trust him with it… most of the time. He had to fight for it at first, but once Albus gains and inch he'll go a mile and not let go of what he's gained, obdurate as nargles he is! But see, Albus is good with clay, shaping it how he pleases for causes of what he believes as the greater good. In dealing with diamonds however, he has a failing. Now, now, I do believe we are wasting time. Something marvelous is going to happen soon, but if we don't hurry it may turn deadly."

So he went from a piece of wool to a diamond did he? Harry closed his eyes tight then opened them again.

"Fine. Let's go," was all he could bring himself to say.

"Harry…" Lupin began, but he was cut off.

"I'm really sorry to do this Professor," Harry said, "But I'm going to go anyway and you have two choices. One is to stay and complete the mission. The other is to go for help and leave me with this maniac in an unknown portal that has who-knows-what living in it."

The werewolf just shook his head, "Please reconsider Harry. This cannot be safe."

Harry just shook his head. He was going to go on no matter how stupid and immature his decision might appear. This place didn't seem so dangerous, what could possibly happen that he and Lupin couldn't handle themselves?

"Alrighty then," Aberforth said gleefully, "Let's be off then! I don't know young Sirius so I can't feel him. Lead on you two."

Harry took a deep breath and started walking cautiously in the direction he felt Sirius was, Lupin right beside him. He understood what his father meant about how to find them. 'Follow your hearts' he had said. But, Harry decided, if he was ever to explain what he was doing now, he'd explain it as 'tracing the aura of others'. That way, he supposed, it would sound less like a Disney movie. He was, after all, a teenage boy for goodness sake, not some pathetic little kid.

Harry looked to see Aberforth skipping along, actually _skipping_, while basketball-sized balls of blue light spouted out of his wand and stationed themselves about eight feet in the air. Harry looked up. He could see no ceiling, but he could feel walls. The walls were black stone and smooth. Even with light you could barely tell the wall from the rest of the place without touching it. It had been less than five minutes when Harry fell into something.

"Ooh," Aberforth commented holding one of those balls of light over it, "See this? A nest dug out of the floor!"

"A nest?" Harry asked skeptically, "What kind of strange creatures live in this hell-hole?"

"Hell-hole? No, no. The real hell-hole is most likely somewhere that-a-way."

Aberforth pointed in what seemed to be a very random direction; at least Harry thought it was a very random one. But arbitrary or not he still took a step back from where the man was pointing just in case; so did Remus.

Aberforth just continued talking, "I do believe we should remember this spot. I'll just put one of these lights two steps away from it. Remember that, the nest is two steps away from the light further to the left than all the others. Or to the right, depends on what direction you're walking in."

"Um… is it necessary to use up anymore of your magical energy on marking random places in this thing?" Harry asked Aberforth skeptically.

The man just turned to him and said, "Is it necessary for me to closely inspect my armpit every morning?"

"Er…"

"Of course it is! You just can't see why, so you automatically assume it is not." He then glanced towards Remus who was quite a while ahead of them inspecting the area for whatever he thought may have dug that hole in the rock and lowered his voice, "You should know the feeling Mr. Potter. Some may find it very unnecessary indeed to work day and night for someone you hate without pay. And is it really essential to cover certain parts of your body in notice-me-not charms…"

Harry couldn't help the sudden surge of anger that welled up inside of him, pushing Aberforth against the wall he whispered in an angry, threatening voice, "How did you find out?"

Before Aberforth even had time to open his mouth, though he did give Harry an extremely amused look, they heard hurried footsteps coming towards them. It was Remus.

"There's something out there," he said in the lowest voice possible, "it's not going to like the idea of strangers, I can sense it." Remus then did something Harry believed he would never see him do, he raised his nose to the air and sniffed, "Whatever it is," his voice seemed to growl a bit, "it had a run in with Sirius. I smell his blood on the creature."

Harry felt his eyes widen. This could not be his calm and civilized ex-professor. He knew in his heart that this was Remus though; this was Remus unguarded, angry, and without the mask. He was letting 'the wolf' inside him surface. And a good thing too; who knew werewolf senses could be so darn handy? Well, maybe he'd known all along, but if someone ever told the Ministry that, they'd be in St. Mungo's undergoing shock treatments for the rest of their life.

Harry heard sniffing again, but looking over his shoulder, he saw that it wasn't Professor Lupin this time, but something else; and it was coming their way… they all stood still for a moment before the sniffing turned into a guttural roar that seemed to shake the cave… portal... whatever the hell they were in. And out of the darkness, barely discernible in the darkness, came an enormous shape of a four-legged beast Harry that had never seen before. It was mostly black with bright slashes of yellow all over it and a it had a bright yellow horn that highly resembled a crumpled party hat, a very sharp crumpled party hat, adorned its head. The creature highly resembled a disfigured rhinoceros with a long spiked tail… and razor-sharp teeth.

"Don't move," Aberforth said quickly before saying at what happened to be the perfect moment, "JUMP!"

And boy, did they jump, barely missing getting: (1) trampled, (2) stabbed, or the ever popular (3) getting perforated by a dangerous looking spiked tail.

"Amazing!" Aberforth beamed, "A crumple-horned snorkack!"

As all three of them started to back away from the animal that was now shaking its head after bumping into a wall.

"Amazing? That thing is not amazing. It almost killed us!" Harry whispered angrily to Aberforth, they all started backing up at a faster pace now, "And it was probably your fault he…"

"She," interrupted Aberforth.

"What?"

"It's a 'she', not a 'he'."

"Whatever. You probably led her here with all your stupid lights…"

"No," it was Lupin who spoke this time, "the… crumple-horned snorkack, doesn't have any eyes, and I don't think she can hear either. But she does happen to have a very keen sense of smell."

"Indeed Mr. Lupin," Aberforth smiled cheerily as the crumple-horned snorkack prepared to charge again, "On the count of three, stun her. One… two… THREE!"

Once again Aberforth managed to give an order at the perfect moment. Harry suspected that if he hadn't listened to Aberforth last time and successfully dodged the beast, he would have said something along the lines of 'screw three' and the results may have come out differently. Then, Aberforth grabbed something out of his pocket and threw it behind them. This time they didn't need to jump out of the way as the crumple-horned snorkack ran right past them and after whatever Aberforth had thrown. The three of them glanced down the portal at where the snorkack had run, glanced at each other, and made a mutual decision to run as fast as they could towards where Sirius was. A few minutes later they stopped.

Harry barely had time to catch his breath before he heard a voice call out in the distance. At least it seemed distant. He looked around but saw nothing but Lupin and Aberforth. He listened harder.

"Do you here that?" Lupin asked him.

Harry knew he wasn't imagining things now. His former Professor could always hear so much further then everyone else. He took a few quick but cautious steps closer, and closer still.

"Harry, Remus, Dumbledore, over here!"

He and Lupin took off at a dead run. Aberforth just continued behind like he had not a care in the world. Perhaps he didn't. But then again, Harry remembered, Aberforth's world was very different from everything else. By the light of his wand Harry began to see three fuzzy black shapes appear ahead of him. The shapes slowly began to form into bodies and distinct features began to show. Heads, eyes, fingers… before he knew it Harry had stopped less then a meter away from his parents. They all stared at each other not quite knowing what to say.

"This is a tad awkward, huh?" James finally grinned, running a hand through his already mussed up hair.

His father was wearing blue robes that were a bit mussed like his hair and his mother was in a Muggle sundress covered with lilies. At the same time they all tried to hug each other but it didn't really work as his parents were, apparently, transparent.

"Hello there!" Aberforth came bounding up, "I see you been dressed for this journey in the clothes that fit your character. Or does your outfit automatically change in here to fit you?"

Aberforth seemed to ponder this for a moment before his shabby robes turned into a silk kimono covered with eyes that actually blinked, his grubby boots turned to owl slippers, and he suddenly had a gold embroidered turban atop his head that was covered with sparkling jewels.

"I thought this place was too spiritual to be able to have something as material as clothes be of any importance but to express the inner soul." Aberforth mused, not at all surprised by his abrupt change in attire.

"You," James said, "are not Dumbledore."

"Yes I am." Aberforth responded.

"No you're not!"

"He's Professor Dumbledore's younger brother." Harry cut in quickly.

Kneeling down to Sirius's level, Harry put a hand on his godfather's forehead. The thought that he too was picking up a few of Mrs. Weasley's mothering habits barely registered to him. He was doing the only thing he knew how to do to help, even though he knew that a simple touch couldn't revive an unconscious person. Sirius felt like ice, and his breath, though steady, was ragged.

"_I did this,"_ Harry whispered softly to no one in particular.

Feelings of guilt began to wash over him again and he felt an enormous urge to feel as much pain as Sirius was feeling know, or would feel when he woke up. He wanted to…

"Got any paper in there?" James was pointing to Harry's backpack.

"Er… yeah," Harry reached inside, ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook, grabbed a ballpoint pen, and handed it all to his father.

Not that it did much good.

"Damn," James muttered as everything Harry tried to give him fell through his hands, which were markedly transparent.

He then screwed up his face and managed to somehow levitate the pen and force it to write whatever he wanted it to write on the piece of paper before tucking it back into the backpack.

"Did you just do wandless magic?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Wandless… hell no! I'm just dead and have a bit of control in this place. Now, we don't have time to discuss what I wrote down at the moment, so I want you to read it with Sirius and Remus when you get back." James then went on to mutter something about getting them to talk sense into each other.

Harry looked over to Sirius. Aberforth and Lupin were healing him in places Lily and James hadn't been able to in their current state of, well, wandless-ness and transparency. Harry looked at his parents who were both looking at him, concerned.

"Listen, Harry," James attempted to put his hands on his son's shoulders and failed as he went right through him, "There are some extremely important matters we must discuss now. I don't think we'll ever get another chance to do so. I told you before that there is something you're going through besides puberty, something bigger than us all. Well, I don't know all the facts myself, but I do know one thing for certain: there is someone that can help you, not that they'll think much of it, but they'll give you enough knowledge that you can figure some things out for yourself. And… Merlin, where do I start? This is going to involve empires and danger and beings even Dumbledore knows nothing about!"

"You could start with telling me what you know about a certain mysterious book Voldemort's looking for." Harry supplied helpfully.

"That is an excellent idea. I'm not sure if Voldemort has the key to finding it yet or not. Last I saw of earth, you were just mastering the stunning spell with wandless magic. Good job, by the way. I have to talk to you about that too…"

At his father's mention of wandless magic, Harry spun around quickly to see if Lupin had heard. His trepidation was in vain, however, as his ex-professor was too busy concentrating on helping Aberforth heal Sirius to notice anything but his wand-work. Lily, on the other hand, was dividing her time between watching Harry and James and trying to help with Sirius. Harry, deciding time was too short to waste worrying, turned back to his dad.

"Forget the key to finding the book. Do you know where it…"

"Harry," James interrupted suddenly in a way-too-casual voice that had a definite edge to it, "You didn't, perchance, happen to say anything along the lines of 'it's not like this mission is going to involve Death Eaters or Voldemort' did you?"

Harry didn't even bother to look behind him, his scar was starting to tingle menacingly and the look on his fathers face was informative enough. He had just had to jinx himself…

"Voldemort's right behind me, isn't he?" Harry said before turning around to come face to face with the most feared wizard of the age, and his mortal enemy.

The Dark Lord's face was contorted into a sneer, "Exactly."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed into a shape not unlike a cat's, a cat who's about to pounce on a hapless mouse. That Professor Dumbledore was right, (the calmer you said something, and the smaller quantity of words it took you to say it, was very effective indeed) was just one of the many thoughts that ran chaotically through Harry's mind.

* * *

Not my best chapter I know, but bear with me.

Reasons I didn't update sooner: Play tryouts (I made it!), singing lessons, karate, school, my inability to like this chapter (which I have gone over about a million times and have continually come to the conclusion that… well… it sucks), and (please don't kill me)… I re-wrote chapter 1 again.

**Coming Soon:** Harry finds something shiny, hates his life, and is ready to kill Voldemort (and himself) over the fact he had very little time with his parents.

**Questions/Comments?(Threatening statements?):** Email me: (link on my author page)


	11. A Very Sirius Situation

**Defending the Light**

**Summary:** Harry makes up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, with no idea it'll include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, Azkaban, exotic new powers, and… a secret identity? Will he be able to keep his secrets without losing everything else?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

I've been receiving some reviews from non-existing chapters along with a review telling me that I have a chapter 11 that is really chapter 1. Sorry about that if anyone got confused. I was re-posting chapter 1 and must have screwed something up.

* * *

_Voldemort's red eyes narrowed into a shape not unlike a cat's, a cat who's about to pounce on a hapless mouse. That Professor Dumbledore was right, (the calmer you said something, and the smaller quantity of words it took you to say it, was very effective indeed) was just one of the many thoughts that ran chaotically through Harry's mind. _

Chapter 11: A Very Sirius Situation 

Everyone could only stand stalk-still as the Dark Lord's mouth twisted into a portentous sneer. Harry felt shockwaves of, well… shock, flood through his body. He wasn't ready for this. He needed more time. At least there was one thing he could count on; at least, he hoped he could count on it: Voldemort's pride.

"Let me guess?" Harry stated as nonchalantly as he could manage, "You sent some of your Death Eaters to distract the Ministry and get Dumbledore out of the way, snuck into the Department of Mysteries with the intent of finding and killing me, but didn't, so you followed me in here. So tell me, did you kill the Order members up there, or did you capture them so they could watch me being tortured and then killed?"

"Personally, I've always hoped to kill you in front of a crowd," the Dark Lord stated just as nonchalant as Harry.

The air was so thick with tension, Harry was sure he could actually taste it, and if he moved, it would be in slow motion.

In the distance Harry was sure he could hear Aberforth stopping the others from interfering while whispering to them, "Don't worry, he'll think up a brilliant plan of escape! At least, sometime this millennium, he will."

Harry, on the other hand, had no clue what to do, and was no closer to coming up with a brilliant plan than he was of befriending Dudley. He really wished that Aberforth would just shut his big mouth, take his goat genitals, and Disapparate somewhere far, far away. Disapparate… wait a second.

"Plan to use the Cruciatus on me again?" Harry asked keeping his wand pointed at Voldemort as he slowly placed a levitation charm on his invisibility cloak with wandless magic, thanking Merlin it was so dark in the portal.

If the Dark Lord had had eyebrows, Harry was sure they would have disappeared behind… well, he took that back, Voldemort didn't have a hairline either, "I do not know what you are trying to gain by asking me these questions, Potter, but I assure you: buying time will not make things go any easier on…"

CRACK!

Before Voldemort could finish his sentence, Harry had thrown the cloak over himself with wandless magic and made an extremely loud noise come out of his wand. Quite simple to do, really, and it could give an entirely different impression of one's magical expertise.

"Apparation!" Voldemort shrieked, "You can't Apparate or Disapparate in here!" he turned to Aberforth, his wand posed to attack, "this is your doing old man, and you will…"

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs from underneath the invisibility cloak.

Before the Dark Lord had a chance to react, he was thrown up against a wall and his wand was in Harry's hand. That was easier than he'd expected.

Or not…

"You don't happen to have anymore brilliant plans up your sleeve, do you Harry?" his father asked him as the Dark Lord's wand flew out of Harry's hand back to it's master and Voldemort started to arise from the spot where he fell.

"Just one," he responded nervously. "RUN!"

At his order, Remus conjured a stretcher and Aberforth quickly levitated Sirius onto it before they both took off. Apparently, they were expecting Harry to follow, or at least Remus was. Harry wouldn't put it past Aberforth to leave him behind. But at the moment, he could only look back at his parents who were using whatever powers they had in the portal to hold Voldemort back.

"Harry, we love you! Now pick up your feet and run!" Lily shrieked.

So Harry started running, feeling as if he were leaving an enormous chunk of his heart behind. After only a few meters he felt Voldemort advancing and barely eluded a huge bar of red light coming straight at him. Even with the balls of blue light above his head (and thank Merlin for those), Harry couldn't make out Voldemort behind him. He couldn't sense him either, like he had Sirius. Apparently, you had to understand the person you felt as well as know them, and Harry was sure he didn't understand the Dark Lord at all. At least, and he knew this from the connection through his scar, Voldemort couldn't sense him either.

In the next few minutes, Harry threw a couple of spells down the tunnel, but none of them hit their target. Nothing hit him either though, or even tried to hit him. All was quiet, not the kind of comfortable quiet that you hear before you fall asleep. The portal sounded like death. Voldemort was toying with him somehow; he had to be. Harry's heart beat faster and faster as he ran. But still he heard and saw… nothing.

Harry let himself slow his pace a tad, hoping above all hope that Voldemort had lost him. Maybe he'd gone down the darker side or fell off a ledge or something. Harry knew that was nothing but wishful thinking though. He might as well hope that someday the Dark Lord will get trampled to death by stampeding buffalo in some kind of freak accident. Then, from about five meters away a gargantuan ball of deadly looking white light appeared and started careening towards him. The ball was so large no amount of pressing against a wall would keep Harry out of its path.

"Constant vigilance, damn-it!" Harry berated himself as he tried helplessly to circumvent coming into contact with what would most likely be the death of him in one way or another.

And to top it all off, he got the Indiana Jones theme song stuck in his head.

Then he noticed a ball of blue light further to the right then all the others. _'Remember that, the nest is two steps away from the light further to the left then all the others. Or to the right, depends on what direction you're walking in'_ he heard Aberforth say in the back of his mind. Meaning that if he could just reach the nest… but the ball of light was too fast, and too close to where he was running. With what he was sure was the last of his energy; Harry shot forwards in a burst of speed full-force towards the nest. He was sure he wasn't going to make it, the ball of whatever-it-was was gaining on him and he was positive it was only a couple centimeters from his back. With all his strength he dived en route for the gap in the floor of the portal. And he made it.

Harry breathed the biggest sigh of relief he had ever had. Then he realized with a feeling of horror, that Professor Lupin, Aberforth, and Sirius had nowhere to run and his heart sank. He was going to _kill_ Voldemort! Then he saw him walking leisurely down the portal. He was laughing. Harry's scar burned so intensely, that at that moment, he felt as if his head would split open. _Glee_. Not his emotion, Voldemort's.

Deciding in a split second that it would be better to try the Killing Curse with wandless magic since it couldn't be tracked that way, he didn't trust Fudge not to throw him into Azkaban even if he did (and Harry was sure he wouldn't) kill Voldemort before whispering the words, "_Avada Kedavra_."

He had aimed for the throat, hoping against all hope that he could at least weaken Voldemort before… well… he had no idea what he was going to do after that. The spell hit, but what it hit was not Voldemort. It was some kind of chain that had been around Voldemort's neck. Harry uttered a quick 'Accio' before it could make a sound clattering against the ground.

"Who's there?" Voldemort's harsh voice cut through the atmosphere like a headsman's ax, bringing death to those who encountered it.

"_Shit_," was about the only thought Harry was capable of. He hadn't even weakened Voldemort, just gotten some stupid chain-like thing.

Then he looked down at what he had gotten from around Voldemort's neck. It was indeed a chain, but for the first time he noticed what was attached to it. It appeared to be a rock smooth and shiny piece of rock that caught the glow of blue light in the most captivating way. It wasn't controlling as the mirror had been, but still captivating. Harry remembered Aberforth's warning about shiny things. He quickly dismissed the warning and raised the rock and chain to throw it at Voldemort's head as a quick distraction. At the last moment, he changed his mind, and flung it into his backpack just in case.

"Hiding, are we?"

Harry snapped his head up and ended up nose to nose with his worst enemy.

Before he could even think straight, Voldemort had said, "_Imperio_!"

It was almost a relief to have the wave of unadulterated bliss overtake him. No worries about whether his friends were in danger or whether the end of his life was closer then ever… Merlin, this was _not_ the time to go off into La-La Land!

"Now Potter," he heard Voldemort say from somewhere in the back of his mind, "Why don't you start by telling me how it is that you keep being such a nuisance to me today."

"_Make up a lie, make up a lie..."_ a part of Harry's mind screamed at himself.

But another part of Harry wanted to obey Voldemort's orders and just tell him the truth. Apparently the Dark Lord had thrown every bit of magic he could manage into the curse, it was much harder to block than anything he'd been through before.

Not mentally prepared to argue with himself, Harry ended up satisfying both parts of his mind, "Aberforth Dumbledore is more powerful then he seems. He works in ways no one expects. Not even you. And his work is always closer to you than it seems. I can sense his aura back there."

Hermione would have been proud. Harry pointed to a spot just behind the Dark Lord, where he could indeed sense Aberforth's aura, it wasn't the strong feeling he got from sensing the real person, but a kind of residue that must have been left as the man walked by. He had no idea why he could sense it. Maybe a part of him understood Aberforth for reasons his mind could not yet fathom. But whatever the reason, Voldemort, not being able to sense a single lie, turned around sharply, ready to face a more suitable rival than a fifteen-year-old boy. This gave Harry just enough time to throw off the rest of the Imperius Curse and wave a quick Killing Curse at him. Voldemort was able to block the curse, but it did give Harry enough time to get a head start down the portal.

Before he knew it, spells and curses were hailing down the tunnel at him as he ran. Apparently the Dark Lord had abandoned all strategy and was now content to do anything to just get his quarry in his possession. Harry had never been more thankful for all those years of dodging blows from Vernon and Dudley. Just as that thought circulated into his mind, a huge beam of orange light that, like a missile, locked onto its target, was coming towards him. Not able to think of anything to do but run, Harry braced for some kind of shock or explosion or something, but it never came.

"Harry!" Remus was running towards him holding off the curse with all the power he possessed.

But it wasn't enough.

Before Harry could do anything, he and his ex-professor were half a meter in the air unable to move a muscle. Then, to everyone's amazement, none other than Sirius Black burst onto the scene.

Harry had seen dueling this viscous only once, and that was when Dumbledore and Voldemort had been fighting in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He made a mental note not to EVER piss off Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Padfoot and Prongs may have been a team when carrying out pranks, but it was Padfoot and Moony who had been dueling partners for so long they appeared to move as one unstoppable force. But to the Dark Lord, they seemed nothing but a small nuisance. Like a couple of doxies the needed taking care of before he could return to his main goal.

In the confusion of the duel, Harry found the perfect opportunity to interfere without being noticed. He wished Aberforth would show up, because Voldemort was about to blow them all to smithereens if something didn't happen soon. Thinking fast and forgetting his wand was in his hand, Harry sent out a large-scale shockwave out towards the Dark Lord with wandless magic. It was a spell he'd only read about, never done, and he had forgotten that he was supposed to aim at the ground beneath the subject in order for the waves to shift upwards. What happened next was something no one expected.

The shock waves (seismic waves as a Muggle scientist might call them), invisible to the naked eye, traveled upwards to the ceiling of the portal and the entire place started to shake as an enormous pile of rock broke off and fell partially in front of and partially on top of Voldemort. Harry could only stand there, eyes wide, until Sirius and Remus both grabbed him and took off. From the noise coming from where the ceiling had collapsed, it was apparent that the Dark Lord was attempting to get out and having difficulty doing it.

Before they had run three meters, Harry found himself in the air and speeding towards the entrance to the veil. And before he could react, he found himself smack-dab in front of Aberforth Dumbledore. Looking around him, he could see Remus and Sirius were just as shocked as he was.

"I just remembered something," Aberforth said gravely, "I haven't read my newest copy of the Quibbler yet. We must away."

"OK," was all Harry managed to say in a hoarse voice. Suddenly an enormous bang erupted from down the portal. Voldemort was loose. "Everyone grab hold of the rope," he shouted. "NOW!"

To his surprise, everyone did. One tug and it shot up into the air a lot faster than any of them expected. Except maybe Aberforth. Nothing ever seemed to surprise the man. How Harry had the time to muse about Dumbledore's younger sibling in the few seconds before the foursome came crashing through the Veil was something he was sure he'd never figure out.

Speaking of which, the Death Eaters on the other side weren't entirely sure they'd figure out how a fifteen-year-old, a werewolf, an escaped and injured convict, and what was certainly a lunatic managed to escape the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald. The Order Members who were currently being held hostage were wondering the same thing.

No one had time to ponder for long though. The second the former occupants of the Veil were in good range, which didn't take long at all, they all started shooting every spell they deemed useful at any Death Eater in sight. Remus, always one for sensibility, took on the task of quickly freeing the other Order Members. As Harry picked off a few more Death Eaters, he found his lack of dueling experience catching up with him as he took on a Death Eater that was easily three times his age. Glancing around the room, Harry could tell that they were outnumbered two to one; he had to do something quickly to change the way things were going. Half the Order Members were down already. He could only be thankful that no one was dead yet. Voldemort must have ordered for any prisoners to be taken alive.

Luckily for Harry, the Death Eater he was dueling got caught in some very un-friendly friendly fire. Harry decided to make a run for the door to get some backup. He quickly sprinted out of the chamber and made his way down the corridor outside.

"Going somewhere, Potter?"

Harry jumped around to the all-to-familiar voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. Pointing his wand at her chest he shot a reducer hex at her. She blocked it effortlessly.

"I don't particularly like it when someone messes up what I put quite a bit of effort into. I will make you pay. _Crucio_!"

Much to Bellatrix's annoyance, Harry dodged her curse just as easily as she had blocked his.

"Get away from him, Bellatrix," another voice came from behind him_. It was_ _Sirius_.

As Lestrange turned to face her cousin, Harry slowly started to back up towards the door.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't mutt-man come back from the dead. The old coot was right about something after all."

"Let's finish this Bellatrix. You look disappointed that you failed during our first duel. I'd like to see you disappointed more often."

The Death Eater smirked, "My, my… if we were still in '76, Uncle Procyon would certainly have put you under a very nasty curse for that crack. I was his favorite niece after all…"

"My father is dead Bella, and good riddance too. Anyone who dubs _you_ as 'favorite niece' has got to have something seriously wrong with them."

They were dueling vigorously now, and Harry still couldn't manage to unlock the damn door. Voldemort must have put some kind of weird locking charm on it. Trying his best to embrace the same magic he'd used earlier against Voldemort, Harry's forehead was soon drenched in sweat.

"Since Uncle Procyon can't take care of you anymore, perhaps I'll take on the duty."

Harry became more and more panicked as he heard Bellatrix throw more and more Cruciatus curses into the string of hexes she was sending at his already weak and injured godfather. He just managed to get a flicker of a magical aura. He could sense the magic Voldemort used on the door. It was strange, like the weave on one of the many patches that adorned so much of his clothing.

"_Concentrate_," Harry told himself, with no idea of what he was doing, "_Come on, Potter. Envision yourself picking apart the threads of magical aura…_"

Step by step he could feel the spells on the door coming off. Harry concentrated harder and threw increasingly larger amounts of power behind what he was doing. Suddenly, Harry fell back. It felt as if an enormous rubber band had just snapped in his face. And somehow, somewhere inside of himself, he knew the door was unlocked.

Sirius was lagging in the duel, and Harry could tell he was using up the last of whatever energy he had. But before he could get the door open, both Sirius and Bellatrix were frozen in midair.

"Now, now," Aberforth stepped into the hall, Remus right on his heals, "Why don't we solve this little problem with a small hand grenade?"

Harry's eyes widened. A grenade? Was this man completely insane? Apparently he was. Remus took off the spell holding Sirius and grabbed his arm before rushing towards Harry, who didn't need to be told to run. On the other hand, Bellatrix, not knowing much about Muggle weapons, seemed immensely confused about the whole thing. But Harry had no time to worry about her. Just as the grenade exploded, so did the door. Sirius, Remus, and Harry all dived into the main corridor, much to the surprise of the dozens of the Aurors and Ministry officials standing outside the door.

"Harry," Sirius asked weakly, "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Did Lestrange get out alive?"

"Who knows?" Remus replied as he, though weak himself, helped his two friends off the floor.

"Who cares?" Sirius asked, "Just one less Death Eater we need to worry about."

"She is alive." Everyone turned to see a calm and collected Albus Dumbledore, who had apparently run into the Department of Mysteries as soon as the door blew open and taken down every Death Eater in sight.

A bunch of haggard Order members followed him out, escorting a group of equally haggard looking Death Eaters. With the exception of Bellatrix Lestrange, all of Voldemort's captured followers just glared silently at everyone around them.

"You got away this time Potter!" she screamed, "But the Dark Lord will return, and he will find you. And _I_ will find you. When I get my chance Potter, I'm going to make you pay! I'm goin to hurt you worse than if I'd put the Cruciatus on you. You'll envy the Longbottom's when I'm done!"

"How dare you!"

Somewhere in his mind Harry could hear Sirius yell something back at Bellatrix, but everything started going foggy. His little spat with wandless magic had drained his energy to an all-time low. He hadn't felt this crappy even after the third task. In a daze, he rubbed the back of his head, but something felt wrong, very wrong. When he looked at his hand it was covered in fresh, crimson blood.

And to make matters worse, the last thing he heard before he passed out was a whisper from Aberforth:

"I'm afraid she's right. Very afraid. And this world will spin as it never has before. No matter which side of The Prophesy is fulfilled."

* * *

Just wondering: After book 6 comes out, will you guys still want to read my story? I have this HUGE plot all planed out and written down in an enormously insane and detailed outline, and it'd be a shame to leave it unwritten. 

Next Chapter: Elaina's Past, Neville's mischievous side, bubblegum wrappers, an incredibly Loony volunteer, a major dose of angst (don't worry too much about it, I can't stay completely serious for very long), and The Unauthorized Biography of Harry J. Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived.

BTW: 'Procyon' is the name of a star; it means "before the dog" in Greek. In the northern hemisphere, Procyon rises just before the "Dog Star," Sirius. (I think I'm incredibly clever for coming up with that)

I will be emailing everyone who: (a) asked a question in a review, (b) gave good constructive criticism in a review, and/or (c) wrote a particularly long and **useful** (note emphasis on this word) review. If you were not contacted and feel sucky about it… well, em, sorry.My email address is hyperlinked on my Author Page and you can complain to me about it. But if you read about all the stuff I'm involved in on my author page you may get a better idea of my schedule. But don't complain until about five days after this is updated. I can't be sure how long it will take to respond to everyone.


	12. St Mungo’s Maladies

**Defending the Light**

**Summary:** Harry makes up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, with no idea it'll include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, Azkaban, exotic new powers, and… a secret identity? Will he be able to keep his secrets without losing everything else?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

Why I didn't update sooner in two simple words: Band Camp.

* * *

_And to make matters worse, the last thing he heard before he passed out was a whisper from Aberforth:_

"_I'm afraid she's right. Very afraid. And this world will spin as it never has before. No matter which side of The Prophesy is fulfilled." _

Chapter 12: St. Mungo's Maladies 

Harry couldn't help but think that he absolutely, positively hated hospitals. He hated the white walls and the sterile smell. He hated the overly healthy food and the restrictions. The first thing that occurred to him when he woke up was that he was, indeed, in a hospital. The second thing that occurred to him was that he could not remember for the life of him how he had gotten there.

Then he remembered. It all came back to him slowly. The Veil. His parents. Voldemort. Sirius…

Harry gave a strangled yelp and sat up so quickly he saw stars, "Sirius!"

"It's OK, Harry," he heard a calm voice from across the room say, "I'm right here."

Harry made a grab for his glasses and looked around wildly. His head spun at the change in position and when stars stopped interfering with his vision, he studied his surroundings. Aberforth was there, dressed in a hospital gown and looking as kooky as ever, in the bed right across from his. Lupin was there as well, and although there were four beds in the room and only two of those were beds occupied, he was standing by an old cot that he'd seemingly been assigned to. And at the door, flanked by Tonks and Kingsley who were looking a bit uncomfortable, was Sirius. He was pale, handcuffed, and looked rather shaken.

Fudge, who was standing right next to Dumbledore, snorted, "Alright Black, you've seen it with your own eyes: Potter. Is. Fine. Now back to Azkaban."

"No!" Harry yelled before he could stop himself, "You can't do that!"

"I can, and I will," was the Minister's only reply.

"Can't he at least be looked at by a healer first?" Lupin spoke up, quietly at first, but with more conviction as he went on, "He'll catch his death in Azkaban! Sirius is already hurt, badly."

A young Auror standing next to Fudge huffed, as if not agreeing with the Minister's every word was a crime deserving of the Dementor's Kiss. He looked as if he were about to say something particularly nasty about werewolves when a pale-faced Sirius interrupted.

"It's alright Remus. I'll be fine…"

"No you won't!" Harry cut in, "I'm not going to let them take you back there. And I'm not going to let Professor Lupin sleep on a bloody cot when there's an unoccupied bed less than two meters away from him. It's my fault Sirius fell through that veil in the first place…"

"Harry!" Sirius looked decidedly startled, "I fell through the Veil because of my own doing…"

"This is not a good time to be maudlin." Lupin looked like he was about to past out, "Both of you quit impugning yourselves for things beyond your control."

Sirius shook his head, "Hypocrite." He glared at the werewolf, "Why is it that even on the brink of unconsciousness, you still manage to confuse people with your vocabulary?"

Harry shook his head as well, racking his brain for something that might help Sirius. The Book of Wizarding Law he had read must have had something remotely useful for this situation. In order to memorize the book for Lupin's trial, Harry had put a charm on himself that would give him the ability to remember every detail of that book. Unfortunately the charm had long worn off. Now that he thought about it, he really shouldn't have rambled off the exact page and paragraph the certain statements he needed were on. He was actually surprised no one had guessed what he'd done.

Then, it clicked. He supposed having all the information about wizarding laws inside his head from having read and charmed the book must have left some imprint after all.

"I, Harry James Potter, put Sirius Orion Black under my immediate protection in accordance with the law and ancient magic of the Wizarding Protection Oath created in," he forgot the date and had to refrain from saying '13-something or the other', "the 1300s." Everyone just stared at him. "I think. Um… so Sirius is now my complete and total responsibility until his trial. I get the death penalty if he is unable to appear in court, but until then, his fate is in my hands… or something like that. Yeah, so… I say he is not going back to Azkaban before his trial."

At first, Harry was unsure about whether he'd done it right or not. But when the whole room started to glow bright purple and fill with ancient magic, he was pretty sure he'd done something correctly.

The Healer that was just walking into the room fainted dead away.

"Bravo!" Dumbledore exclaimed bouncing a bit and clicking his heels together in midair.

"Did he just do wandless magic?"

Harry turned to see Hermione and the Weasley clan standing in the doorway.

"Not exactly," the Headmaster beamed, "But a wizard protection oath is very powerful in itself if the right words are said and the right heart is in the right place."

"But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not!" Aberforth quoted the Prophesy in a prodigiously cheerful voice.

Thankfully, Fudge was too angry to pay attention to Dumbledore's brother and didn't hear that particular statement.

"Fine," he snapped, "But he must remain handcuffed. Tonks, Shacklebolt, your new assignment is to guard Black twenty-four-seven. Come Gordon," he motioned for the third Auror to follow him before storming out in a huff.

As soon as he left, Harry collapsed back upon the bed with a relieved sigh. Sitting up had exhausted him.

"How are you feeling Harry?" everyone seemed to ask at once in various forms.

"Fine," he replied, "just fine." Everyone looked at him skeptically, "Okay, okay, so I'm not exactly up to par on the 'Madam-Pomfrey-Thinks-You're-Well-Enough-to-Play-Quidditch' Scale. But when has that ever stopped me?"

Ginny grinned, "He's fine alright." But she still gave him a look that told him that even if she knew he'd be fine physically, she was still worried about his emotional state.

"He is not fine!" Mrs. Weasley almost growled, "He needs rest. Everybody out! We'll visit in the morning."

This particular command was met with much complaint. But in five minutes all red-heads were heading out the door with a disgruntled Hermione in tow. Harry thought he overheard Mrs. Weasley mutter something about hospital food and getting a decent head start on a good, nutritional breakfast.

"But Mrs. Weasley," Harry reproached with bewilderment, "It's almost midnight!"

But she had already left.

"Drink this," a woman whose nametag proclaimed 'Healer Joanne' ordered.

"Not until Sirius and Professor Lupin are treated just as fairly as Aberforth and I are being treated," Harry responded stubbornly.

Healer Joanne's eyes widened, "Sirius Black and R… Remus Lupin?"

Before Harry could even roll his eyes in exasperation a loud clinking sound was heard.

"Whoops!" said Tonks in an extremely fake voice, "I seem to have dropped the keys to my handcuffs on the floor. Clumsy me."

Taking a cue from Tonks, Kinsley added, "And I seem to have let go of Black, dear me."

Sirius just stood there, handcuffed, and raised an eyebrow.

"I wonder what these do…" Harry picked the key up off of the floor, "Oops!" Harry fake gasped, "I seem to have accidently unlocked the handcuffs of a potentially dangerous criminal."

"And I seem to have accidentally put silencing and tracking charms on the door so the Ministry won't suspect a thing!" Lupin managed to say through suppressed laughter.

"Mwhahaha," Sirius did a fake evil laugh that made the healer jump nonetheless, "I shall now wreak havoc on this bed."

With that said Sirius flopped down on the bed and hugged the nearest pillow fiercely. Harry was having difficulty suppressing his laughter, which was really hurting his ribcage, head, and stomach.

"The poor bed," Tonks grinned before turning to Shacklebolt, "So Kingsley, our prisoner has just escaped, what should we should do about it?"

"We will track him down!" Kingsley declared, "After our break."

Kingsley and Tonks exited leaving Harry alone in the room with Sirius, Lupin, the Dumbledore brothers, and Healer Joanne (who looked very confused). But to her credit, she immediately called in some backup healers and started to check out Sirius and Remus (Remus looked about to say something along the lines of 'don't bother with me' but was silenced when a turquoise-colored potion was shoved into his face).

Somewhere, a clock struck midnight.

"And thus, the contract is broken."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, and realized they were both in one of those dark-blue transparent domes again, like the one they'd used at the Order meeting.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Harry James Potter, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and company shall henceforth be admitted entrance to the Department of Mysteries as of the 21st of June, 1997." Dumbledore recited, "I was never admitted into that particular department."

"But you went into it to get the Death Eaters and…"

"Did you see me enter the Department of Mysteries?"

"No. But then how did you…?"

"Highly advanced summoning charm."

"Oh," Harry's eyes widened, "So we have control over Fudge's life now?"

"Exactly."

"Are you going to kill him?" Harry asked.

"Do you want Dolores Umbridge to become Minister of Magic?" was the very effective response.

Harry cringed, "Bloody hell, no! So we just pretend the contract is still working around Fudge and use it to our advantage later on?"

"That is exactly what we are going to do. Just thought you should know," Dumbledore said as he lifted the dome. "Well, I'd better get going. And Aberforth, please try to inform me what the voices in your head are saying _before_ you start to do what they say. You gave me a bit of a scare back there."

Aberforth's grin was twisted, "I'll try… I'll try. I don't mean to worry you, but sometimes a quick action is best. If you're going to walk on thin ice, you might as well do a little jig while you're there."

For some reason Harry couldn't quite explain, his mind grasped on to that advice firmly. It sounded a little like what he was doing, walking on thin ice. But he was being ever so careful that ice didn't crack. He was going against authority, yet still obeying it, practicing potions but not making anything incredibly dangerous like he wanted, and practicing wandless magic and physical exercise, but not too much in order to look unsuspicious. He didn't even have a proper teacher or instructions.

And then it hit him. Aberforth was not what he seemed at all. He was a Seer, most definitely, Harry thought, but he was so much more than that. He remembered the outfit Aberforth had worn that supposedly fit his personality. If he remembered correctly from divination, owls were a symbol of wisdom, the eyes meant he saw things others didn't, and the gold and jewels… Aberforth was important, Harry concluded. He could be a powerful ally to have.

Harry shook his head. Why was he thinking about allies? He wasn't the leader of anything. He was going to have his stay in St. Mungos then it was straight back to the Dursley's for him. And somewhere, out of his reach, the world would spin as it never had before.

Harry had a fervent urge to throw something.

"Harry?"

Harry turned to look at Lupin and Sirius.

"Are you OK?" Sirius asked, a worried edge to his voice.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Lupin interrupted, "Tell us the truth Harry, the whole truth. And don't leave anything out."

"Alright then," He was too tired to argue anyway, "I'm not OK. And I doubt I ever will be again. It's not just one thing, but a whole bunch of things. When you, Sirius, went through the Veil, I almost jumped in after you. The only reason the 'almost' isn't a 'did' is because Professor Lupin held me back."

Harry hadn't thought it was possible for Sirius to get any paler, but he had apparently been wrong.

"You tried to jump in after me!" His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

"Yeah," Harry said, "yeah, I did. Then I went after Lestrange myself. I tried to put the Cruciatus on her but it wasn't strong enough and all I did was knock her down and the bloody woman kept taunting me. And now she'll make me pay. I don't doubt her. Anyway, The Prophesy was destroyed. She yelled at me, I yelled at her. She really started to freak out. Then Voldemort came. And he shot the killing curse straight at me. And I just stood there, because a part of me really wanted it all to be over. That part is still there, except I know now that I have no choice but to keep going on. Ever since Dumbledore told me The Prophesy, I know. And I'm never going to give up, never." Harry started laughing, it was a desperate laugh, even he could tell, "I'm not even making sense to myself now! I love life, but I absolutely hate it, I want revenge I don't feel I deserve, and my obligation to this world is something I despise, yet I'd do it whether it was an obligation or not. Even though I don't want to, but I do."

And Harry laughed harder. Which really hurt his aching body, but he didn't care.

"I… I'm sorry," he apologized to Remus and Sirius, "it's just hard to go through most of your life pretending you're just fine when really, you're not. I suppose I was bound to crack sometime or the other."

"The thing with pretending," Lupin began, "is that if you do it often enough…"

"You start to believe yourself," Harry finished.

Lupin shook his head, "No. You just get really good at pretending."

"That is the smartest thing I've heard anybody say today."

They all turned around to see Elaina Lafina striding through the door being tailed by a very tall, muscular man in dark glasses armed with a wand and what looked suspiciously like a magically enhanced gun.

Lafina turned to him with a glare, "Are you really going to follow me in here, or do you have a death wish?"

She then went on yelling at him in French. Sirius turned to Remus and raised an eyebrow.

"What is she yelling about?" the convict inquired.

"She wants him to stop stalking her." Remus scratched his head as the man backed away slowly, "Bodyguard?" he asked Elaina.

Lafina practically growled, "I can't stand Grandmère! She promised me no more bodyguards! But the second she finds out I'm getting on the bad side of, not even the Minister, but the Senior Undersecretary and am openly opposing You-Know-Who she becomes completely unreasonable!"

"Who exactly is your Grandmère?" Sirius asked her with interest.

"Carina Delmare Destan Lafina the Unreasonable."

Lupin grinned, "Because caring about you enough to worry about your safety is dreadfully irrational."

"I'm thirty-two," was the grumbled response. "I'm not being too mature about all this, am I?"

Remus laughed and shook his head, "No, you are not. But it happens to the best of us."

"It's very hard to imagine you ever being immature." Elaina replied.

"I refuse to throw away the teddy bear I've had since I was four."

"Yeah, but Mr. Fuzzy-Winkles is more of a sentimental thing."

Sirius, who had been watching Elaina and Lupin converse intently, gave a little start, "She knows about that old bear of yours?" Lupin nodded, "Well, since she's not running away in fear of a dangerous criminal she must know about me. How much does she know?"

"Quite a bit actually," Elaina responded.

Sirius's confused look ended up bringing about the whole story of the trial. This, in turn, brought about the story of how they had rescued him from the Veil.

Harry didn't pay much attention to the conversation. He was too busy thinking, about his parents mostly. They had seemed to actually love him, even though it was because of him they were dead. He was the one would should have been left behind in the Veil, not them. He'd wished his entire life that he could see his parents and he had, but for such a short time. And Sirius didn't seem to care that Harry had caused his almost-death. Was everyone around him going insane? Lately, Uncle Vernon tended to backhand him for burning bacon; he didn't even want to contemplate what would happen if he managed to almost kill his uncle.

Harry hadn't realized the Healer was even there until a large dose of potion was being shoved down his throat and he was informed that he wouldn't be able to sleep until it had done all it could. The potion tasted awful, but he was feeling much better. The excruciating pain in his head had diminished to a dull ache.

Harry looked over to see Sirius with his head in his hands. Remus had a comforting hand on his shoulder and Elaina was saying something with a sad look in her eyes.

"I know how hard it is to lose someone so important to you," she said.

"Who did you lose?" Remus asked quietly.

Elaina closed her eyes and got a look on her face as if enduring a truly horrible memory.

"Parents," Sirius choked out. "I forgot you wouldn't know that Rem. It was the summer just before our fifth year. You never did get the Prophet over the summer."

Remus's mouth took on a sad smile, "Our landlord always hated any form of wildlife."

"So did my Grandmère," Elaina admitted, "She had gone that afternoon, left the Château de Lafina for Spain or something. She was the Death Eaters' main target. She had managed to rally the whole of Free-France against Grindelwald during World War II, and they weren't looking forward to letting her do the same for You-Know-Who.

"All the wards and alarms went crazy. I was ten, and very afraid. My parents left to go fight, but not before locking me in a closet with my Grandpère's old invisibility cloak. There was one point that night when a Death Eater opened the door to my closet and I was afraid he'd look right through the cloak and see me. But he didn't. And when I finally stepped out of the closet and went downstairs…" Elaina started to shake, "Everyone was dead. Everyone. I never even got to say good-bye. My maman left me a note though, I found it right next to her body; in it she told me never to judge anyone based on anything other than what I know is true about who they are, not what they are. Because that's how the war started in the first place."

Harry felt awful for her. No wonder she was shipped off to the States when she was eleven.

Harry managed a small smile, "That explains the avidness against werewolf prejudice."

Elaina smiled back at him, "That, and the fact my temper could rival that of a raging hippogriff. But really, Remus here did change my view of werewolves."

"Vicious beasts…" Remus muttered sullenly.

"I'm not talking about the werewolves who follow Fenrir Greyback…" Elaina scowled at him.

"Who the hell is he?" Harry couldn't help but blurt out.

Sirius snorted, "An idiotic rat-bastard werewolf who takes morbid pleasure in biting innocent little children…"

"Sirius please, there's an underage wizard in the room…"

"Oh for the love of…" Sirius sat bolt upright and pointed his finger in Remus's chest, "You should be cursing up a storm about Greyback. He's the one that went and bloody bit you in the first place!"

There was an intake of breath from Elaina and Lupin's shoulders slumped.

"I just don't want to talk about it right now," Lupin rubbed his temples, "So, Elaina, if you weren't under the impression that werewolves are vicious beasts, what impression did you have?"

Elaina shrugged, "That they were lost souls, not really sure who they are and where they're going in life. Bent and broken from a horrible existence. I went on a mission once; a lycanthrope was trying to commit suicide by jumping off a Muggle bridge. He looked so trapped, so desperate to escape something terrible. I was able to stop him before he killed himself on that bridge, but later on I found out he'd died a week later. He refused to eat or drink and starved himself to death. But you're so different!" she smiled at Remus, "You refuse to give up when the going gets tough, you have something to fight for, even if some people scorn your existence. You face any problem head-on with logic and so many people care about you. Plus, wherever you go, your very presence demands respect."

Harry couldn't help but give a small laugh at the lycanthrope's shocked expression, "Don't you feel loved now, Professor Lupin?"

"Just call me Remus, OK?" Lupin smiled down at him, "I'm not your professor anymore and you're old enough to do away with that particular formality."

"Um... OK Profess… I mean… er…"

Harry felt a bit awkward at this. But he was happy as well, at least Lupin… Remus, he corrected, was accepting him as more than just a kid.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "You do realize Remus isn't going to bite right?"

"Did I say _you_ could do away with formality Padfoot?" Remus grinned at his friend.

"Er…"

"From now on, you will address me as either Mr. Lupin or sir," Remus continued in a tone that was anything but serious. "And while you're at it, you might as well bow down to my greatness and grovel at my feet."

Sirius snickered, "Dictator."

"Benevolent dictator," Remus corrected.

At this point, Sirius proclaimed an uprising in the form of a pillow fight. Being so weak and injured, however, led to all three of them to wear out rather quickly. Sirius groaned and fell back on his bed.

"And I thought swimming, malnourished, for miles through freezing water made your body ache," Sirius grumbled. "Obviously I'd never been trapped in a portal for weeks on end while my body completely shuts down."

"Beats the cruciatus curse, though." Harry yawned, "I hope this potion hurries up and works, I really want to get some sleep."

Elaina looked as if she were trying to get the mental image of a fifteen-year-old under the cruciatus out of her head, "I'll leave you guys to rest then. Mind if I use your bathroom first? I have a meeting in Brazil in a few hours and it may take a while to get there thanks to increasing security measures in South America. There was an attack on a wizarding town near Porto Velho a couple days ago, so everything's a mess," she concluded, disappearing through the lavatory door.

Remus sighed and pulled out a kind of chocolate drink called a Yoo-hoo! out of his cloak, Sirius smirked at him.

"Now I know you like her."

"That's exactly what I said outside of her office." Harry grinned in spite of everything depressing that had been discussed that night.

"Shut up," Remus replied as he took a swig of the light brown liquid. "It doesn't matter anyway."

Sirius gave Remus a pointed look that told Harry this was probably an ongoing argument, "So you're just going to forsake your own feelings and be all noble about it, are you? Look, she obviously doesn't care that you're a werewolf. Just ask her out or something…"

"Sirius, have you gone completely mental? Ask her out?" Lupin snorted, "You know that every wizarding restaurant I'm let into, they throw away almost everything I touch after I'm gone. And nearly everyone who's ever known what I am has ever shared so much as a writing utensil with me. At the werewolf registry, they'll say: 'sign this' and if I don't have a quill and they are forced to lend me one, they don't want it back."

"Remus… I…" Sirius began.

"No, don't bother," the lycanthrope replied. "It's just really humiliating, OK?"

He put down his almost empty drink and looked at Harry reticently as if afraid he would back away. Harry attempted to give what was, he hoped, an encouraging smile. It must have worked because Remus gave him a small smile in return. Elaina entered the room once again, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

"Well it was nice talking to you guys… hey is that a Yoo-hoo? I haven't had one of those things since that Auror mission in Kentucky when this absolutely insane American Ministry official kept staring at my chest and I threw the thing at his face."

"Um… yeah. I'll just throw it away in the morning. I'm too tired to get up right now," Lupin responded with a yawn.

"Aw… but there's still a bit left."

"Mostly backwash."

Elaina shrugged and drained the can; "I'll throw it away for you on my way out."

Remus blinked, apparently unsure of what he'd just witnessed. Sirius was trying very had not to laugh as he shot a 'told-you-so' look at his friend.

"You're walking right past the rubbish bin," the animagus told Lafina, still trying not to laugh.

"Oh, right. Thanks um… Mr. Black."

"Call me Sirius, luv!" was the last thing Harry's godfather shouted out before the door closed and he burst into peels of laughter. "R… Remus! The look on your face is so priceless!"

"I. Can't. Believe. She. Just. Did. That."

Harry scooted a little closer to the button used to call a Healer in case Lupin started to have a heart attack. Then he realized something odd.

"Hey, Remus, Sirius, where did Aberforth go?"

As if fate had come to answer his question itself, Aberforth popped onto Harry's bed out of nowhere.

"Hello again Harry!" He grinned insanely, "Had a nice chat with the Lafina girl, eh? She'll get herself into trouble one of these days if she doesn't stop running. I had to go by my place to feed the pets. Penelope was getting hungry."

Sirius, unused to Aberforth's odd ways, asked something Harry could have surely lived without knowing, "Who's Penelope?"

"He's my platypus, of course!" The gray-bearded man responded with glee, "Now Harry, I suggest you learn to stop hitting yourself in the head with doors. You may end up as crazy as me someday! Good night."

"He's hitting himself with doors?" Sirius scowled at Aberforth who was paying no heed at all to anything around him and entering a kind of meditative state on his bed, "You're the one who blew that thing clear open with that darn Muggle weapon of yours!"

That was when Harry realized that Aberforth was probably right. He _had_ hit himself in the head with the door, because _he_ had blown the door up. He remembered the blood on his hand and the door exploding. But he hadn't done anything. He hadn't said an incantation or even thought one. It just happened like the time he saw through the wall or the time he made his wand go from his knapsack to his pocket. Or that time he'd turned his teacher's hair blue in primary school. Harry felt his stomach sink, was it possible he was losing control over his magical abilities? Was the wandless magic doing something that made him lose control?

"Well I'm going to sleep." Remus yawned, "My potion must have finished working. See you in the morning."

He started walking over to the cot, probably out of habit. Sirius rolled his eyes and steered his barely conscious friend to a bed before coming back to his own and collapsing on it.

"Damn him," Harry heard his godfather's muffled voice say into the pillows, "Why can't _my_ potion work that fast."

"Mine hasn't finished working either." Harry said, "And it's making me hungry for some reason."

Sirius lifted his head a bit, "I think that means your magical capabilities took a beating, mine sure did. What were you doing down there to damage them so badly anyway?"

"Um… I think resisting the Impious curse kind of did most of it." Harry responded quickly.

Sirius shook his head, "I still can't believe you're capable of resisting one of Voldemort's Impious curses. So how about we go get a hold of some grub?"

"Covered!"

Both Harry and Sirius gave a little jump as none other than Luna Lovegood entered the room with an enormous bag of sweets.

"Hospital food is cursed by the ancient wizard Mongols of the thirteenth century. So I brought you these." She nodded to the sweets.

"Luna?" Harry laughed, "What are you doing here? It's nice to see you again."

"My Dad slipped off one of the mountain slopes while looking for Snorkacks," Luna told him. "Now I'm volunteering at Mungo's."

"I saw one of them in the portal I went to while rescuing Sirius from the Veil. Um… it tried to kill me."

Luna looked ecstatic, "You'll have to tell me all about it later on! Hello Stubby!"

Sirius gave a confused look, "Who is Stubby?"

"You are!" she told him with glee. "But I can call you whatever you want me to call you, Harry's Godfather."

Sirius gave a bark of a laugh, "You can call me whatever you please, but I prefer 'Sirius' myself. So you're one of Harry's friends are you? You do look familiar…"

"She was with me when I went in to the Department of Mysteries a couple weeks back." Harry explained, a terrible sick feeling filling his stomach at the memory.

"Really?" Sirius looked concerned, "Are you alright?"

"Of course! I couldn't allow myself to be left out if something was happening to you. You are the Great Pumpkin after all."

"She's fine," Harry told Sirius, who looked a tad disturbed, "This Great Pumpkin theory wouldn't be proposed by that guy who claims I'm the Easter Bunny would it?"

Luna just gave a dreamy sort of smile as Harry and Sirius's stomachs both growled in hunger, "Do you want the candy or not? Because if you don't eat it, the Uma Bugs sure will."

Luna didn't stay long afterwards. She claimed she had other things to do. So Harry and Sirius magicked their beds closer together and lay there eating candy. For a little while, Harry could pretend that Sirius had no reason to be mad at him and Voldemort had never existed. But when he thought about what Lupin had said about pretending, Harry just gave a bit of a sigh, and knew the ex-professor was right.

Sirius, mistaking Harry's sigh for boredom, quickly started up a topic non-candy related, "So, about our friends' love lives…"

"What about them?"

"I don't know. Would you prefer we discuss yours?"

Harry cringed, "Merlin, no!"

Oh, come on! It can't be that bad." Sirius laughed.

"Yes it is," Harry told him. "I had a huge fight with my girlfriend and now she hates me. But that probably wouldn't have worked out anyway because I had to watch her last boyfriend get murdered and she was always crying and stuff. Plus, her friend is a complete bitch and got me busted by Umbridge."

"You watched her last boyfriend get murdered?"

Obviously, Sirius had never had relationship problems of _this_ proportion.

Harry nodded, "You know Cedric Diggory? She and him used to be an item. I still like her though; she was a nice girl and everything. But… she… she said she couldn't deal with me when I had all my crap going on. So I've just stopped thinking about getting into romantic relationships with anyone."

"I have no idea what that Prophesy says," Sirius began, "but it's messing with your head. You're as bad as Moony!"

"She cried during our first kiss, Sirius! I think I should just face the music, I'm really bad with girls and completely clueless!"

"How clueless are you exactly?" Sirius suddenly looked nervous.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… er… I don't have to give you The Talk or anything do I?"

"What talk?"

Sirius looked like he was about to break out into cold sweat, "You know… about the birds and the bees and…"

Harry's eyes widened, "Oh God Sirius, please just shut up about that now. I know plenty about… that. From school and stuff. So er…"

Sirius looked relieved, "Okay… yeah. Thank Merlin!" He glanced around the room and caught sight of Lupin, "Ha!" He barked another laugh, "I can't believe it! He's hugging that empty can of chocolate drink in his sleep! He must have summoned it before he drifted off."

Harry looked at Sirius and Sirius looked at Harry. Then they both broke out into raucous laughter about the whole situation. Sirius yawned and blinked.

"I think my potion's almost done," Sirius started swaying back and forth, "but I'll stay up with you until yours is… is…"

"I'm tired too," Harry lied in hopes Sirius wouldn't worry about him anymore.

"Thank Merlin…" Sirius yawned again, "Yeah… thank Merlin." He now seemed to be going into some kind of half-conscious stupor, "Turn off the lava lamp James, you'll wake up the gnomes…"

If Harry had not been in so much pain, he would have allowed himself to actually laugh.

Time wore on and Harry found himself unable to sleep. He could only lay there and think. And his thinking was slowly beginning to border on mental torture. Damn it, his parents had seemed so wonderful, despite what his Dad had done at fifteen and they were dead because of a stupid prophesy, not about them, but about him. And Profess… Remus was such a great person, and Harry couldn't help but think that he'd let him down. He'd almost lost all of his best friends because of his stupidity and very existence. Sirius should be bashing him in the head with something by now, in Harry's opinion. And even Professor Dumbledore, regardless of his apparent obliviousness concerning his situation at the Dursley's, had reason to despise him. He was causing more trouble than he was worth lately.

Finally, around three in the morning, Harry's potion finished its job, and he could sleep. Sleep and forget everything for a little while.

He should have known that wouldn't last long.

--------------------

_Remus was not himself. Or perhaps he was, the wolf was apart of him after all, and it was hungry for blood. He surveyed his surroundings, a forest. The one he'd been bitten in. There was fresh blood nearby; he could smell it. Women's blood. He was running fast, chasing something ahead of him. Wind blew through his fur, and the thrill of the hunt was close to maddening. His prey tripped over a branch. He was getting closer, closer. _

_Feral, animalistic eyes met frightened brown ones. Elaina: the person who had listened to his opinion as if he mattered; someone who had cared enough to stand up for him even though he'd been a stranger to her. The wolf didn't pay heed to any of it. With a brutal growl, he dived at the women's throat and ripped it out. Tasting the blood on his fangs, hearing her screams…_

Remus Lupin awoke from the vivid nightmare covered in cold sweat. It took him a moment to realize where he was. The hospital. He was there. The bed had thrown him a bit, he was barely ever allowed in St. Mungo's, and when he was, he was never allowed on the beds.

Suddenly, Remus registered that someone actually was screaming. His heart stopped, and for a moment; he was back in the forest, killing. But it wasn't a women's scream, it was… Harry. Lupin turned his head wildly to find the fifteen-year-old thrashing and screaming in bed as if he was possessed by something purely evil…

Lupin cursed under his breath and pushed the button for the healer.

"Get Albus Dumbledore up to this room NOW!" He yelled into the device, "And tell him to bring Severus Snape."

Sirius was awake now too, and he made his way to join his old friend by Harry's bedside, trying with all his might to wake him from whatever it was, was happening.

"He will not come back quite yet." Aberforth opened an eye.

"What do you mean?" Sirius sounded just as frantic as Remus felt, and that was saying something, "What do you know? Tell me, TELL ME NOW!"

Aberforth opened both eyes this time and looked out the window, "He will not return, and should not return, until he has seen what needs to be seen. Mars is bright tonight. Nargles everywhere will suffer."

Sirius let out a growl of frustration that could rival any werewolf's, and turned his attention back to Harry.

"Hang in there, kid," Remus heard him whisper.

_Yes,_ Remus thought, _for the sake of all things good in the world_, "Please, please hang in there."

--------------

Harry had been having a dream about goats, the Weasley family, Cho Chang, and chocolate drinks in Brazil, when it had been brusquely interrupted by the harsh reality of why he should have listened to Snape all along when it came to Occlumency. He had just been sliding down an enormous rainbow chasing a giant platypus, when everything suddenly got dark and he landed somewhere entirely different than where he had been supposed to land. His subconscious told him he was supposed to end up at Cho's house in and enormous burrito, but now that he thought of it, that sounded incredibly stupid. Nothing abnormal ever sounded stupid in dreams. Harry flinched, he felt much better than he had, but his head was _aching_ worse than before. And there were Death Eaters in front of him.

His mind immediately went into panic mode. Had he been captured? Had they gotten hold of Sirius and Remus? What about Ron and Hermione? Was anyone safe?

"Have you any new information?" He heard himself say.

Except it was not his voice saying it, it was a voice he recognized all too well.

"N… not much, my Lord," Harry watched in annoyed agitation as one of the Death Eaters responded. Not his annoyance, Voldemort's, _he_ was more horrified, and curious, "W… we have made some progress however. All we knew was that he is _his_ brother and works at the Hogshead as bartender. We know now that he owns the place as well, is considered at bit of a loon, a… and has been accused of the following: trespassing on privet property, public nudity, showing magic to a Muggle child, allegedly taking a house elf by the name of 'Hokey' out of prison (no one to this day is sure where the thing has disappeared to), and practicing inappropriate charms on goats. All in all, it sounds as though this man could not possibly have…"

"And who else do you suppose could have pulled something like that?" He snapped, or more so, Voldemort snapped, "A werewolf? A weakened ex-convict of Azkaban? Black and Lupin can put up a fight, but they aren't incredibly powerful at all, merely a couple of lowly maggots to be disposed of. Or are you thinking of someone else? Are you thinking that Potter can actually create something so extraordinary as to collapse even an inch of that portal? Do you think a fifteen-year-old can undo one of my most complicated locking charms, one that Albus Dumbledore could not get open?"

The Death Eater started to shake.

Voldemort then rounded on another, "And you, you claimed that the chain that held the key would not break. It seems to me it has broken. Now the most important element to our current endeavor is gone."

"B… but my Lord," the Death Eater in charge of this 'key' stuttered, "I had everything set up perfectly, "Only an tremendously strong killing curse, one set off to weaken, not kill, nonetheless, could have broken that chain. No… no one could have figured that out."

"I'm not saying someone did," Voldemort sneered, "Obviously something else went wrong with your protection spells." Harry felt a flash of fear from the Dark Lord. Was he afraid that Aberforth had figured it out and had this thing he needed so badly? "In other words," Voldemort continued, "you have failed. I do not like failure. I do not like it, nor will I accept it."

Harry looked at the Death Eater who had failed his master. He seemed so sure his plan had worked, so positive of it. He needed to know what he was thinking. Suddenly, Harry found himself in the mind of the fearful Death Eater. He was thinking of something, a complicated combination of spells over a chain like the one that had held the rock around Voldemort's neck yesterday morning, trying desperately to figure out where he'd gone wrong. But mostly, the Death Eaters' mind held pure terror and a raw desire to bolt. Nevertheless, he could not, for a pair of burning red eyes glued his feet solidly to the floor.

As Harry stared straight at his archenemy through someone else's eyes, he felt nothing but disgust. Voldemort raised his wand in the air. He had a job to do, and Harry's connection to him told him that the Dark Lord felt not even the slightest ounce of guilt.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry attempted to leave the body of the Death Eater, but the killing curse shot forward was hypnotic, and he couldn't force himself to abscond in time. The pain Harry felt was more than anything he had ever experienced before. Then again, perhaps he had, the torrent of hurt and suffering brought back memories of confusion and despair…

The killing curse was so much stronger than the Cruciatus. It felt something akin to being struck by lightening, being stabbed all at once by thousands of white hot knives, bleeding to death, burning slowly in a fire, and being crushed all at the same time. The Death Eater he was inside of felt nothing but a sudden darkness overtake him, and he envied the man with all that he was worth. Harry wanted nothing more than to die, to feel nothing. With a final push of desperation, Harry managed to break free of the other man's body, still hurting, even as a spirit, a shadow of himself.

It was just his luck he ended up in a Death Eater Voldemort had turned to torture. The Cruciatus after the killing curse was just rubbing salt on the wounds, his wounds. He started to make another attempt at escape, desperately wanting to return to his own body. But then, Voldemort started to talk again, and Harry's hunger for information overpowered his thirst for an escape from the pain.

"Back to the subject of Aberforth Dumbledore," Voldemort sneered. "Just because someone appears insane, doesn't mean they are. I believe we have a ploy on our hands; it would not be the first time. Many of you may recall Albus saying odd things such as 'nitwit, oddment, blubber, tweak.' Crazy, you may think, but it turns out 'nitwitoddment' is actually a spell in the… elfish language I believe. A spell with the means of protecting the students of Hogwarts with ancient magic."

"But… but elves don't really _exist_. House elves surely, but…"

"Silence, Avery!" The Dark Lord snapped, casting another Cruciatus, "The times are changing, things that happened so long ago they are considered myth and legend today, will soon be revealed. I can feel it, taste it. Another dark age will set upon this world for all who dare stand against me." He lifted the torturous curse from those he'd cast it on in a single wave of his wand, "You are all dismissed. I expect more information on the younger of the Dumbledore brothers in twelve hours; you have until then to make a futile attempt at impressing me. Stand up Avery! Peterson, take care of that body. As for you, Raulie, I want a full-scale search of that Veil for my key. Get moving, I have an appointment with a certain rat who made an incredibly imprudent slip-up this afternoon."

Harry's mind was whirling, and his subconscious was screaming from the prolonged pain of the night's events. A final wave of nausea washing over him, Harry's whole being collapsed into darkness, before his eyes snapped open again to reveal blurry shapes and way too much light.

"Voldemort found his way out of the Veil," he choked before a surge of dizziness overtook him once again.

* * *

**I meant to write a lot more in this chapter**. But I just started to get really long and I'm all like, "What the heck? Screw the original plan; I'll just update this now, 20 pages are long enough for a chapter. I'd take forever to get the rest of it down with Band Camp going on anyway."

In the **Next Chapter**, The Chosen One, Harry finds out exactly what the papers do when they finally get the _right_ information, gets yelled at by Snape, meets up with some friends, has the long-awaited TALK ABOUT HIS PAST with Remus and Sirius, and gets to read his own biography (I meant to put it in chapter 12 but it didn't fit).

**Plus: Sirius's trial, will it go well?**

Some **hints** for you: Almost everything I write, no matter how stupid it sounds, has a purpose to it. Especially things concerning Aberforth Dumbledore, he's not just here for comic relief. Elaina's Grandmother's name is supposed to mean something as well (sort of). On the other hand, Harry dreaming that Cho's house is a giant burrito is merely an example of the randomness of dreams (and my inability to stay serious).

Yes, yes I am using a few things from **Half-Blood Prince**. If you notice one certain thing I used from there, you may find something quite interesting.

My** Review Response** policy is the same as stated in the last chapter.

This would have been **updated sooner** if not for major technical difficulties.


	13. The Chosen One

**Defending the Light**

**Summary:** Harry makes up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, with no idea it'll include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, Azkaban, exotic new powers, and… a secret identity? Will he be able to keep his secrets without losing everything else?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

"_Voldemort found his way out of the Veil," he choked before a surge of dizziness overtook him once again._

Chapter 13: The Chosen One

The first thought that entered the mind of Severus Snape was, "_Damn_!" he'd known all along that the Dark Lord would find his way out of the Veil. Even if his body did die in there, he would always come back. Always. Dumbledore had once told him that it was important to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting. But what happened when all of the fight ran out?

Potter groaned and attempted to sit up. His blasted Gryffindor pride was just one more thing Snape could not stand in the least.

"Lay back down Potter, before you kill yourself!" He snapped at the boy.

Severus surveyed his student with contempt mixed with curiosity. From the looks of it, Potter had been under the Cruciatus. No, something worse than the Cruciatus. What could be worse, however, Snape had yet to find out. Potter's body trembled and shook, though it was obvious he was trying to suppress the tremors. Thus, the next question arose. Why and how did the Dark Lord do this? And no one who could totally push one up against a wall with their _mind_ should have any problem keeping even the Dark Lord out of it.

"Tell us what happened, Harry," Dumbledore calmly demanded.

"I don't know," the boy answered, "Voldemort didn't break into my mind though. I… I think I broke into his, with this," he rubbed his scar. "It's happened before, but I thought he was guarding against that now."

Snape was baffled, though he hated to admit it to himself, "Just tell us what happened already!"

The boy took a deep breath, "I was having a dream that was totally unrelated to anything important when I was suddenly in this place that was all dark and dungeon-like. There were Death Eaters in front of me, and at first I thought I'd been captured by them or something when I found out that I wasn't in my body at all, I was in Voldemort's. Because of what Aberforth did in the Veil," Potter got a shimmer of a pained look on his face, probably because he wished he'd done those things himself. According to reports, Dumbledore's brother had collapsed part of the Veil and basically saved everyone, "Voldemort wanted to know everything about him." He turned to Aberforth, "He wants to kill you. Sorry."

"_Why in the name of Merlin is Potter apologetic that Aberforth saved his sorry arse?"_ Was yet another question that flashed through the mind of Severus Snape.

He didn't have much time to ponder though, because Potter started talking again.

"I um… got a bit freaked and tried to get out of his head. So I, um… I accidently got into the head of someone else, a Death Eater. But it… er… well, it turned out that that Death Eater was in some trouble with Voldemort and Voldemort cast the Avada Kedavra on him." Potter started to shake, and Snape had to fight the urge to shake as well, "It hurt worse than the Cruciatus Curse. And… memories… I felt as if I'd known the feeling before. But that's not important. What's important is that Aberforth is in big trouble because…"

"I'm doing what I feel I have to do." Aberforth Dumbledore finished Potter's sentence. "And you, Mr. Potter, are doing what you have to do."

The man winked at Potter, and Snape's eyes seemed to roll on their own accord. Why was the Headmaster's brother so damn asinine? Why was Potter looking so surprised? Why the hell didn't he just move to some secluded area and just disappear?

Gryffindor's golden boy started to speak again, "So… er… I think I know why that happened," he reached into that knapsack of his and pulled out a small vial.

Snape gave him no time to explain, merely swooped down upon him and grabbed the bottle out of his hands.

"Potter you imbecile! You made a Mind-Trapping Potion! Do you know what could happen if you overdose just once? Death, Potter." He shook the vial in the boy's face.

"I know the risks." Potter stated icily, "I needed a fast way to make sure nothing could get in or out of my head, and this was the quickest solution."

The two were locked in a staring contest for a moment. Snape felt anger well up inside of him. True, one wouldn't call someone who could actually brew a Mind-Trapping potion an imbecile, the concoction was inexpensive, yet difficult to make, not to mention extremely dangerous to take. Learning Occlumency would be easier than making that potion! For most people anyway... Potter was not normal. Not normal at all.

Dumbledore rubbed his temples, "it's not that I don't trust you Harry, but…"

At this, Aberforth started laughing like a madman.

"You don't trust me," Potter finished his sentence. "I assure you, Headmaster, that I'm very careful. I'll take the potion for the rest of the summer, and when I get back to Hogwarts, I promise I'll continue to try and learn Occlumency."

Snape closed his eyes, hoping that if he opened them again the scene would change and he would not have to see Dumbledore accepting Potter's request. He opened his eyes. Damn! The way the Headmaster was looking at him, he knew he was going to have to instruct the brat again.

---------------------

There were quite a few things Harry found unbelievable at the moment. First off, Aberforth was taking all the credit for what had happened in the Veil for his sake, practically sacrificing himself. Voldemort wanted to kill Aberforth because of what Harry had done and the man had simply brushed the fact off. Secondly, and the most impossible, was the fact that Dumbledore was agreeing to let him use a potentially lethal potion. Something was rather fishy about the whole thing. Aberforth was a nut, so his actions were at times, a little off. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was not one to blindly trust a fifteen-year-old. He wanted to appease him for something else that had happened.

"What is it?" Harry asked his Headmaster.

"What is what?"

The entire group turned to see the entire Weasley clan minus Bill and plus Hermione enter. None other than Mrs. Weasley herself had posed the question.

Dumbledore rubbed his temples again and Harry got the feeling that the Headmaster had not gotten as much grief from any other person besides Aberforth himself.

"Now, Harry. I don't want you to be overly upset about this but…"

"Please get to the point, sir."

Everyone in the room looked a tad shocked at the way Harry had just said that so bluntly to Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't as though he'd been mean-spirited about it though, in fact, he had spoken in an even calmer tone than the other man. Dumbledore said no more, just handed Harry the day's copy of the Daily Prophet. What it said, however, drained every once of calm Harry had ever possessed:

**Harry Potter: The Chosen One?**

_Could the ever famous Boy-Who-Lived be more? Last night, it was confirmed that Mr. Potter had indeed been in the Department of Mysteries, rescuing his ever elusive and controversial godfather, Sirius Black (see page 2 for details) from what many know only as The Veil, which is supposedly a portal to the afterlife. It was also confirmed that the reason for Mr. Black being in this so-called Veil in the first place, was because he was fighting to assist his godson when Death Eaters invaded the Department a few weeks ago. Which brings us back to the question: Why were the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries in the first place? An information leak now tells us that after the battle against the Death Eaters, one of the prophesies in the Department was missing. Harry Potter was obviously prophesized to hold a key role in the war against You-Know-You, who was most likely trying to steal the prophecy that night. These clues are only the tip of the iceberg however. As you read on, you will surely come to agree that… _

"No!" Harry groaned as he sat up quickly, ignoring all pain he was in. "How could they… a whole page of information on…"

Arthur Weasley patted him on the back, "It's alright Harry. The Daily Prophet has written worse things about people, and you've been able to handle the press in the past…"

"Yeah but they've never actually been _right_ before!" Harry yelled to the ceiling, cursing whichever twist of fate was responsible for the mess he was now in.

The entire room went dead silent.

"They were right?" Ron finally managed to choke out. "That prophecy really did say… bloody hell."

"Well I don't think it really matters if Harry has been prophesized to play a large part in the war against Voldemort or not." Ginny proclaimed, making everyone stare at her incredulously, "Oh come on! It's just simple logic. Harry already knows he's going to fight, and he's not just going to go after Death Eaters like the Ministry. If I know Harry, he'll go straight for the root of the problem, Voldemort himself. In the end, The Prophesy is a good thing, because if we know you'll make a difference in the war, Harry, we know you actually have a chance against one of the greatest dark wizards of all time. If Voldemort was trying to steal The Prophesy in the first place, it means he probably knew just as much as this reporter. The only difference now is the rest of the world knows as well, just a tad ahead of time."

Harry looked at her, contemplating what she had told him.

"You're right," he said. "I guess it really doesn't matter. I just _really _hate attention. Although I suppose I'd get it anyway, Boy-Who-Lived or not. I'm like a magnet when it comes to trouble. And The Prophesy never said I will play a large role in the war, it just says I can. Nothing is ever certain."

"Good morning, everyone," Bill Weasley burst into the room and pulled back the curtains to reveal a dark, cloudy sky. "And what a beautiful morning it is!"

"Hey, Bill," said Fred, "Can I have a bit of whatever you're smoking?"

Mrs. Weasley conked her son on the head before asking, "Why so cheery this morning, Bill?"

"Last night after I visited Harry with the rest of you, Fleur and I went out to eat to celebrate the successful mission. Then we went over to my flat and…"

Harry, Ron, Sirius, and the four other Weasley brothers leaned forward in anticipation.

"Bill…" Mrs. Weasley interrupted sounding rather dangerous.

Bill gave the others a look that clearly said: _'I'll tell you all about it later'_ then continued, "Anyway… around dawn, nether of us were tired in the least and we sat out on that little balcony attached to my flat and watched the sun rise over London. But the best part is I asked her to marry me and she said yes!"

Was Harry imagining things, or did Mrs. Weasley look less than pleased about the engagement? Brushing the thought aside, Harry immediately jumped out of bed, ignored any pain or dizziness he felt, and shook Bill's hand heartily.

"Congratulations!" he exclaimed. "You are one lucky guy! I never got to know Fleur very well, but I know she's a nice girl. She's intelligent too; she did participate in the Triwizard Tournament after all."

Bill was ecstatic at Harry's enthusiasm, "Thanks, dude! You seem like you're feeling better."

Harry had to laugh at this, "Actually, recent events have caused me to feel much worse."

"Did I miss something?" the eldest Weasley asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Nothing too important," Harry shrugged it off, too happy there was still some good news left in the world to care, "Avada Kedavra's, Cruciatus's, stupid connection to Voldemort through my scar, and of course the ever annoying press that have the ability to make every situation one hundred times worse. The usual stuff. So when do you plan to have the wedding?"

The subject change didn't work. Damn. But the topic had to have been brought up sometime. Harry knew from experience that Dumbledore would have told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in a very serious voice, making everything seem a thousand times shoddier than it really was. He'd hoped that if he had just brushed off the incident, no one would worry about it.

"We leave you for eight hours… Eight hours! And you manage to nearly kill yourself _again_? That's it! I'm about to fire-call Elaina and borrow some of her bodyguards." Ron joked; half worried as hell, half exasperated.

"Don't even think about it." Harry retorted. "Now seriously, Bill, about the wedding…"

---------------

Sirius watched as his godson continued to chat away as if nothing had happened. How could he be so calm while Sirius himself was teeming with righteous anger over his godson's predicament?

Molly started to unpack an enormous bundle of food she'd brought with her, and Harry soon eased everyone slowly into normal conversation. As everyone was chatting over breakfast, Sirius quickly found the perfect opportunity to confront Remus about a certain something that hadn't escaped his notice.

"You had that dream again didn't you?" he quietly accused his friend.

"What dream?" Remus feigned innocence, knowing he wouldn't be believed.

Sirius sighed, Remus was going to make this discussion so much harder than it had to be; "The one where you're in your werewolf form and you're killing someone you care about. Who was it this time, the Lafina chick?"

Why would I dream about… _her_?" Remus asked stiffly.

"Because," Sirius started, "You care about her. And you always have that dream about people you care about. You've had ones featuring me, James, Peter, Lily, Dumbledore, Harry, that one Ravenclaw who tutored you in potions that one time, your mother, McGonagall (although, any dream that involves her is a nightmare anyway), a bunch of other random people… And there was that ever so memorable time in our third year where you woke everyone up at midnight claiming you'd eaten the entire population of our school. Hah! As if you could do that! One bite out of Slughorn would have given you a heart attack due to all the cholesterol."

Remus's mouth twitched upward a tad.

"I just… old fears are hard to get rid of." He told his friend, "I'll be fine."

Sirius nodded. If he wasn't mistaken, Harry had some old fears as well that he was desperately trying to hide. Sirius himself was an expert on high self-esteem, and he could tell, just by the way Harry walked, that his godson seriously lacked it. In fact, he had as much self-esteem as Remus, and that was saying something.

"Thinking about Harry?" Remus asked with a smile.

"How can you tell?" Sirius raised and eyebrow at his friend.

"I just can," was the response. "Speaking of Harry, you and I need to have a little talk with him. Apparently, Dumbledore hasn't told us everything there is to know about Harry's past…"

---------------------

When the time for the Weasley's to leave rolled around, a large amount of begging was to be heard.

"Please let us stay mum!" Ron pleaded, "It's so boring at Headquarters…"

Mrs. Weasley was about to say something to her son, but Harry interrupted, "I'd _really_ like it if they could stay…"

That settled it. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were allowed to stay. Harry barely had time to open his mouth to speak, however, before Remus and Sirius pounced upon him and his three friends.

"Remus tells me," Sirius began, "that you have some interesting stories to tell us about your past experiences."

Harry's eyes widened. He'd completely forgotten that Remus had intended to have this discussion. From the looks of things, there was no way out of it.

Harry sighed, "First off, how much do you know?"

"Well," started Sirius, "We know that as a first year, a Death Eater taught at your school, but he was taken care of before he caused any real damage. And Dumbledore did mention something about the Forbidden Forest, but he said it was because of detention and you were fine."

"But," Lupin glared at Harry, "_You_ mentioned something about Voldemort."

"Yeah, I mentioned Voldemort a ton of times. Which time are you talking about?"

Lupin shook his head, "Not sure, I was in a bit of a daze as soon as I heard the words 'Voldemort' and 'first year' in the same sentence."

Sirius started hyperventilating, "Voldemort… first year…"

"Maybe I misheard," Lupin took a deep breath, "You must have simply stated the Death Eater was trying to bring back Voldemort right? You weren't threatened by this Death Eater, were you?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other, looked at Remus and Sirius who were so nervous about a simple threat, and all burst into peels of laughter. Both adults looked very confused.

"Yeah, sure the Forbidden Forest was safe," Hermione snorted through her laughter, "If only Hagrid wouldn't have made us split up, leaving you with no one but Malfoy and Fang!"

"Who abandoned me the second Voldemort showed up!" Harry added. "And of course, being the pathetic little first year I was, I freaked out and did nothing but back up into a tree root!"

Ron sighed, "Thank Merlin for centaurs!"

"Tell me about. I swear, if Firenze had never showed up…"

"Mars is bright tonight…" Harry was cut off by Hermione's perfect imitation of Ronan and Bane.

All three of them broke into laughter once again.

But Remus and Sirius were far from amused. They had both gone stark white, and were breathing heavily. Both of them grabbed onto Harry so tightly, he thought he'd lose all oxygen.

"You met Voldemort in your first year." Sirius stated it calmly, but somehow made himself sound downright dangerous.

"Well, I didn't know it was Voldemort until he actually introduced himself later on…"

Lupin actually stopped breathing and Ron had to slap him on the back in order to get his respiratory system back on track.

"What do you mean he introduced himself?" Sirius was visibly shaking.

Ron reached over and grabbed an extra piece of bacon, adjusting his seating position on Harry's bed in order to make himself comfortable, "Shall we start from the beginning?"

"Yeah, from the beginning."

"_But when was the beginning?"_ Harry wondered. _"Was it the day I met Ron on the train? The day I discovered I'm a wizard? No. It was much farther back than that. Perhaps it all started the day I was born, or the fateful day the Prophesy was told. Or does my story start somewhere long before anyone knows it started. Before I know it started?"_

Harry gave himself a little shake and began to talk about his first year with the help of Ron and Hermione, wondering why he always had to over-think things.

--------------------------

Sirius Black was in a state of shock. His godson had: battled a troll, been hunted by a dark lord, gone into the Forbidden Forest, faced an enormous three-headed dog, almost gotten thrown off of his broom, nearly gotten himself killed by a giant chess set, nearly been strangled by devils snare, and so many other things in his first year alone. Now he was just finding out that Harry had come face to face with Voldemort, and actually heard Voldemort speak.

"So I had the Stone in my pocket," Harry was saying, "and lied to Quirrel about what I was seeing in the mirror. And you know Voldemort; he didn't fall for it in the least. Told Quirrell he wanted to speak with me face to face."

Sirius's heart sunk. This was insanity! Who would let an eleven-year-old face this kind of thing? Without thinking, he grabbed Harry into a tight hug.

"Er… it's really not that bad Sirius." Harry said incredulously, as if everything he'd done was something anyone could do, "Quirrell just un-wrapped his turban, and there was Voldie's face, right on the back of his head. Disgusting really. He's all like: 'Why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?' And I was… really freaked out. But I didn't give him the Stone and that really pissed him off, so he told me that my parents died begging for mercy and if I didn't join him I'd meet the same fate."

"HE WHAT?" Sirius heard himself shout, "What the hell did you do?"

"I called him a liar," Harry shrugged, "Yelled it at him really. He started smiling and then told me the exact opposite about how my parents died. He still wanted me to join him. So I bolted, Quirrell dived after me, my scar hurt like hell, everywhere I touched Quirrel blisters appeared, I grabbed Quirrell's neck, Dumbledore came and saved my sorry ass, blah, blah, blah… I became a murderer at eleven. End of story. Do I really have to continue this?"

_Harry had what?_

"_Oh, yes,"_ Sirius thought, _"You are definitely going to continue this."_

In his opinion, young boys should be worried about girls, Quidditch, and pranks, not evil beings out to kill you. But Harry wasn't your average kid, not by a long shot. And Sirius got the sense that that fact was grating on Harry's nerves. Sirius himself had never given a thought about whether he was normal or not. He went with whatever, and actually preferred to stand out, as had James. But Harry was not James, it was clear to see, Harry was… Harry. And he possessed as unexplainable an attitude as Remus had when Sirius had first met him and twice the complications. Somebody was going to get it, and Sirius didn't care whom he had to get back at in order to obtain proper revenge.

As of now, Voldemort and Dumbledore were at the top of the list.

--------------------

Harry was exhausted. He had just spent the past couple of hours answering frantic questions from both Remus and Sirius. Now he just wanted to talk about something other than himself. He tried numerous times to bring up other subjects and memories of happier, safer times, but every attempt backfired on him. Thank Merlin for Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who tried their best to tell as much of the story as they could in what could only be described as a streak of compassion for Harry's aching throat, which was already sore (along with the rest of his body) from the past night's events.

"Can we be done talking about this now?" Harry begged his godfather; "You've made me so damn bored out of my life right now…"

Ron shook his head, "How can you ever get bored of _your_ life?"

Harry shrugged playfully, "No idea, but it's all Sirius's fault."

Harry's remake earned him the first real, though very small, smile Sirius had shown since he'd woken up that morning.

"Maybe his life is so not boring, all of the not boring-ness is starting to bore him." Ginny suggested with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"And that makes sense how?" Ron asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well it sort of makes sense… in a twisted Fred and George kind of way," Harry laughed. "But seriously, you guys have got to let me get of this room."

"Out of the room," Remus looked concerned, "I thought you just wanted to stop talking, why do you want out of the room? I'm not sure you're well enough yet."

"I just don't like closed-in spaces." Harry responded. "Please just let us go to the tearoom upstairs. I promise I won't overexert myself or anything…"

Sirius looked as if were undergoing a vicious internal struggle at the suggestion, "I'm not so sure Harry… I do want you to have fun… but you're injured and you might get hurt if…"

"You can go." Lupin interrupted, "If we decide you've been gone for too long we'll come for you. I know how you feel about hospitals, Harry. It may do you some good to get out of this room."

Fifteen minutes and about fifteen hundred warnings about how and why he shouldn't overexert himself later, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were on their way to the tearoom. As the four of them walked through St. Mungo's, Harry couldn't help but feel an enormous amount of relief that everyone was so busy, no one gave him a second glance.

"Harry!"

Harry heard his name called and involuntarily twitched. Someone had noticed him after all. But on finding that person was none other than Neville Longbottom, Harry's anxiety turned into happiness.

"Neville!" Hermione exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

Neville's demeanor instantly grew tense; "I was just visiting my… parents with my Gran. The Healers don't think they have much time left."

A wave of sympathy for Neville completely engulfed Harry from his head to his toes. Anything he had previously felt about how much his life sucked was washed away in the tide.

"I'm sorry. You want to come upstairs to the tearoom with us?" Harry asked.

"Sure!" said Neville with a small smile as they walked into the Tearoom and Hospital Shop, "That'd be great. You should hear my gran talk about you; she's been doing it nonstop since I got home. She'd give anything to have you for a grandson. _'That Harry Potter's got more backbone then the entire Ministry of Magic put together!'_ she says…"

"She right," Ron grinned as Harry went red, "But if your grandmother wants Harry, she's going to have to fight over him with my mum. And Sirius. And Remus…"

They walked up to the counter and found the one employee working there was completely immersed in a certain book entitled: The Unauthorized Biography of Harry J. Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry groaned in annoyance. The teenage wizard behind the counter was too busy reading to notice though. There was a large stack of his biographies on the counter, and a picture of him expertly dodging the Hungarian Horntail during the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament adorned every last one.

"It's not funny," he stubbornly told Ginny, who was in the middle of a giggle fit.

"Yes it is," she replied. "It's bloody hilarious."

"I want to read it!" Ron exclaimed, "It can't be very accurate, it'd be fun to just look and see everything they got wrong."

Harry couldn't subdue his curiosity about what the book said, so he replied with a disgruntled, "Fine."

"So what does everybody want?" Hermione asked.

"Iced Butterbeer sounds good to me," was Ron's enthusiastic reply.

"Me too."

"Me three!"

"Me four!"

"Five Iced Butterbeers please," Hermione said to the guy behind the counter, "And can we have one of those biographies?"

Never taking his eyes off the book, the employee grabbed a bunch of ingredients and mixed the drinks.

"Impressive," Harry commented, having expertly multitasked quite a few times himself.

"That's nothing," Hermione jokingly boasted, "I can read and cook whole meals at the same time."

Ginny grinned, "Although I seem to recall you nearly setting my house on fire last summer while doing just that while mum was away…"

Hermione blushed.

"Turning a little red there, Hermione?" Ron laughed.

"I'd love to see what color she'd turn if I actually told you guys what book she was reading at the time. It was this paperback romance and even the title was…"

"Ginny!" Hermione yelped putting her hand over the younger girls' mouth.

The group purchased their order and advanced to a table with the book, still laughing. Since Ron refused to shut up unless Harry read his biography out loud, Harry flipped to the first page.

"Once upon a time…" he read aloud, "an extraordinarily powerful child was born into a world of war and turmoil, never knowing that he would be the one to eventually stop it." Harry twitched, "What the hell? This thing makes me sound like some bloody action hero in a fantasy novel."

"Speaking of which, have you ever felt like a supporting character in someone else's work of fiction?" Neville asked randomly.

"Nah!" replied Ron, "Besides, what kind of insane author would make one of their characters say something like you just said?"

"Why are you even having such a pointless conversation?" Hermione griped, grabbing the book from Harry and flipping through it.

"I don't know," was Ron's only answer, "Ask the crazy author person who's writing this dialogue."

Hermione whacked Ron on the head with the book before saying, "It says here that your aunt and uncle treated you like their own son and explained to you about your heritage when they thought you were ready."

"Oh really?" Harry said as sarcastically as was possible, "And how exactly did I react to this?"

Ginny, reading over Hermione's shoulder, sniggered, "You were somewhat surprised, but told them that you always knew in your heart there was something special about you."

"Hey check it out!" Ron grinned, obviously finding Harry's exasperation hilarious, "You cleverly discovered Quirrell was a madman who thought he could resurrect Voldemort by sacrificing you and confronted him about it. Then he attacked you and you just managed to escape…"

"How dramatic!" Ginny proclaimed in a pretentious voice.

"Oh this is crap!" Harry yelled to no one in particular.

"Yo, dude," the guy behind the counter spoke for the first time, "You better not be insulting the Chosen One, I'll have to like, challenge you to a duel if you are."

"Why do you care?" Harry shot at him vehemently.

The guy never took his head out of the book, "Because the Chosen One is going to save us all, man. When he was in his second year, he fought off a hundred snakes with his wand. He has skills, mad skills."

Harry groaned and banged his head against the table, letting it rest on the hard, cool surface. He definitely needed some aspirin or _something_. The guy behind the counter, whose nametag said 'Dan', looked up.

"Harry Potter," Harry grumbled angrily into the table, "did not take on a hundred snakes. It was only _one_ Basilisk."

Harry could practically feel the stares sinking into his back like a deadly poison. One of his worst enemies had interrupted his day: attention.

"He didn't have his wand either," Ginny nodded, "just a sword."

"Gryffindor's sword." Ron added.

"Why didn't you have your wand with you in the first place anyway?" Neville asked Harry.

"I think Voldemort took it." Hermione responded.

It was at that moment that Mrs. Longbottom walked into the room looking for her grandson and stopped dead in her tracks at the mention of the Dark Lord.

"What a second," Neville looked confused, and for the first time, Harry noticed that the boy didn't flinch when Voldemort's name was said, "What does You-Know… I mean, Vol… Voldemort have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?"

Ginny sighed, "He's the Heir of Slytherin. His damn diary enchanted me and forced me into the Chamber of Secrets where his memory started draining my powers and giving him life. Then he took Harry's wand."

"Yeah… that was creepy." Harry cringed. "So I think we've already established that this book is rubbish now," he motioned to the biography.

"Pretty much, yeah," Ron agreed, "Holy crap! It says in here you snogged Hermione!"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other wide-eyed.

"And this is supposed to be a best seller! Oh Merlin no! It'd be like kissing my sister …" Harry buried his head in his hands.

"Ew…" Hermione shivered, looking at the book, "It's all descriptive too…"

"Neville," Mrs. Longbottom spoke up, still looking a bit shocked, "We must be leaving shortly."

"Alright, Gran," Neville said glumly.

It was at that moment Luna skipped in absentmindedly.

"Hey, Luna!" Harry waved.

Luna stooped and squinted at him, poked him on the head, then smiled dreamily and sat in a chair next to Neville.

"Hello, Luna," Ginny grinned at her friend, "I didn't know you were here. We were just discussing how messed up Harry's biography is. According to this, he has a perfect, tragic life and knows exactly what he's doing at all times."

Ron snickered, "Tell that to Snape."

Harry shook his head, "Yeah, well, I think the biggest mistake the author made was not mentioning any of you guys enough," he motioned around the table. "I'd be nowhere without you."

Neville idly sloshed his Butterbeer around in his cup, "I can understand why you'd say that about everyone else, but why me? I didn't do anything."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Neville, "Are you kidding? You are one of the best students in the D.A.! You've worked really hard to get everything right. Then you put everything you learned to the test a couple weeks ago and helped hold off the Death Eaters until backup arrived. You wouldn't give in for anything." He met Neville's startled eyes with absolute sincerity, "Not many can hold their own against the Cruciatus, and we both know what it's like, to feel as if you'd do anything to make the pain stop. I could see it in your eyes; you wouldn't have given in to Lestrange no matter how long it took for backup to arrive."

Neville's eyes never left Harry's, "I wanted to."

"But you didn't. Although I might have, to stop her from hurting you."

Neville's actually smiled, "Hermione's right, you really do have a 'saving people thing'."

"Harry Potter: Hero complex by default." Ginny grinned and took a swig of her Butterbeer.

Harry blinked a couple times. Was it his imagination, or had she sounded a little sad when she said that?

Mrs. Longbottom was looking from her grandson to Harry with a wide-eyed expression on her face. When Harry had last seen her, she had said aloud that Neville lacked his father's talent. Harry desperately hoped she would change her mind. Neville really was much braver than anyone ever gave him credit for.

"I think," Luna announced while tracing the marks in the table, "That we did much better working together then we did when we got split up. The flying brains with tentacles and the Death Eaters had a much better chance of attacking us when we were separated."

Harry grinned, to him and the others Luna's statement made perfect sense. Although to a stranger, Luna would sound just as loony as she always did. The odd change in events was rather amusing. Then Luna ruined it all by saying:

"Hey, do you thing the flying brains with tentacles and the Death Eaters are in on some strange conspiracy together?"

Ron laughed, "No. But I do think we make a great team." In an exaggerated gesture of grandeur, Ron raised his Butterbeer into the air and declared a toast, "To well-timed Reductor Curses!"

Ginny got a mischievous look in her eyes as she too, raised her Butterbeer into the air, "To highly annoyed Death Eaters!"

Hermione laughed and raised her glass as well, "To brains, baby's heads, and prophecies!"

If Hermione's toast sounded ludicrous, Harry wasn't sure how to describe Luna's, "To Blibbering Humdingers!"

Harry couldn't resist, he raised his own Butterbeer and said, "To moving fountains and Voldemort's foiled plans!"

"To Bellatrix Lestrange's excellent imitation of a toddler, I daresay she didn't need to work hard at it."

Everyone turned to look at Neville, who, below his raised glass, wore a smile on his face. Harry ginned back at him before they all clinked their glasses together, laughing at their sudden bout of craziness. It was then that Sirius and Remus strode into the tearoom, ignoring the stares, gasps, and shrieks that followed them.

"Harry," Sirius scowled, "What is taking you so long. I was about to have a heart attack! I swear the enemy could be waiting at any time, anywhere to kill."

Harry snorted, "And Voldemort is hiding in my Butterbeer too, isn't he?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, "For the love of Merlin! How do Molly and Arthur survive with so many teenagers?" He ran a hand through his hair then spotted Neville, "You must be another of Harry's friends. I'm pretty sure I saw you at the Department of Mysteries, but otherwise, I don't think we've ever met. You do look rather familiar though…"

"This is Neville," Harry introduced him, "Neville, meet my godfather, Sirius. Sirius, meet Neville Longbottom."

"Longbottom? As in Frank and Alice's son?" A look of comprehension crossed Sirius's face.

Neville shook his head in affirmation, looking a little nervous. Sirius didn't seem to notice, though, and shook Neville's hand vigorously.

Sirius's enthusiasm, Harry was sure, knew no bounds, "Goodness, I haven't seen you or your parents in… a long time!"

"Fifteen years, Sirius," Remus corrected.

Sirius scoffed, "Nonsense, Moony. I'm not that old!"

Neville looked temporally stunned, "You knew my parents, sir?"

"Of course I knew Frank and Alice! Two of the best damn Aurors the Ministry had, back in the day."

"I know, sir."

_Was it Harry's imagination, or did Neville look slightly disappointed? _

Sirius's voice softened, "What else do you know about your parents, kid?"

Neville shrugged, "Just that they were really talented and nice. And they did really good in school and stuff…"

Sirius snorted, "Yeah, they were both smart, but has any ever told you about the time your dad was going to flunk transfiguration and…"

"Mr. Black!"

Sirius spun around at the harsh voice before exclaiming, "Augusta! I'd know that hat of yours anywhere! Why, aren't you looking marvelous today…"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, young man," Mrs. Longbottom said, "And Neville knows enough about his parents, thank you very much…"

Sirius shook his head, "He knows about his parents, but it seems to me he doesn't _know_ his parents. Didn't you even tell him how Alice and Frank met?"

Neville's eyes lit up.

Augusta Longbottom crossed her arms, "I don't even know the whole story, but what I do know of it is outrageous, if not a bit scandalous."

"Scandalous?" Ron snickered.

"You shouldn't be the one laughing Ron," Sirius grinned, "Your parents were also involved."

"Yes, but so were you Sirius," Remus laughed, "Along with Lily, James, Skeeter, Jorkins, Malfoy, a few more Black siblings, a highly energetic Niffler…"

"You were involved too, Moony."

"I was only guilty by association."

Harry had never seen Neville look so thrilled. Then it hit him, Neville probably knew just as little about his parents as Harry knew about his own.

"Please let them tell me about it Gran," Neville turned to Mrs. Longbottom with a big smile on his face.

Mrs. Longbottom didn't say anything. She sighed, whacked Sirius on the head with her bright red handbag, and, with a flick of her wand, added three more chairs to the table. She sat in one of them as though she were a queen on her throne, a diadem of stuffed vulture atop her head. Sirius raised his eyebrows and sat down along with Remus before beginning what was to be one of the most amusing stories anyone at the table had ever heard.

"It was fall of '72 and, being the excellent twelve-year-old troublemakers that we were, me, Remus, and James (Harry's dad) were planning what we were sure would be the prank of the century. My sadist-of-a-cousin Bellatrix had taken to shamelessly flirting with super-popular pureblood sixth year prefect Frank Longbottom. She wasn't looking for a relationship, she was just a slut, and overlooked the fact that Frank was in Gryffindor for his looks and his cash. We wanted a way to embarrass the hell out of her and annoy Frank because he had confiscated my Led Zeppelin records and wouldn't give them back. Not because he was afraid I'd blast them again at midnight either, he was listening to them himself; I heard them playing in the sixth year dormitories. But to perform the exigent task, we needed a plant. Herbology wasn't a strong subject for us, so we decided to get some help from this adorably shy fifth year Hufflepuff named Alice, who had a bone to pick with another cousin of mine, Narcissa Black…"

-------------------

Neville Longbottom walked into his room, lost in thought. He had had so many firsts today. The first time his Gran had looked at him like he could actually be half as good as his father, the first time someone had told him how great he was, the first time he'd actually gotten an idea about who his parents really were… He almost laughed aloud; from how his Gran talked, he'd thought his parents had had a proper, somewhat boring, yet stunningly romantic relationship. He would have never guessed they had bonded over a messed up prank that got messed up because his roommate's parents had been snogging in an extremely necessary broom cupboard. Black's story had had more twists than one of the Muggle soap operas his Great Aunt Enid liked to watch.

According to Professor Lupin and Mr. Black, his father had been brash and brave, while his mother held a quite strength she would unleash on anyone who threatened those she loved. Neville wished he could, just for a moment, live up to the legacy they'd left him with. He looked at the gum wrapper in his hand, the one his mother had given him today. One day soon, she would no longer be around to give him anything anymore. Not old gum wrappers or hope, hope that his mother would get better because she remembered him at least a little.

Neville tried very hard to blink back tears, he really did. He had to let go. He had to stop hoping. He was going to walk right over to the bin and throw away the wrapper. He was going to let it go and drop it in with the rest of the pointless rubbish that had no use to anyone anymore. Neville's hand trembled as he walked over the bin, and stood over it for a good five minutes until his hand shook so badly he dropped it on top of some old paper and used tissues. But then he reached down, picked up the wrapper, and put it in an old cedar chest at the foot of his bed that had enough old wrappers to paper his wall. Neville closed his eyes and dropped the candy covering in like he'd done so many times before.

He would stop hoping another day.

--------------------

Night descended on London like a dark shadow. There were no stars, no moon, only the darkness and the occasional streetlight. Yet even the streetlights seemed strangely dim and foreboding, as if they were surrounded by a heavy miasma. Remus and Sirius were sleeping, goodness knows, they deserved some rest. Harry glanced around the room; Aberforth was nowhere to be seen. Deciding he needed to get down to business, Harry grabbed his knapsack from under his bed, drew the curtains around his bed, and dumped the contents over his mattress. Harry leaned forward and picked up the two things he felt he needed to investigate the most: The stone Voldemort had dropped and the note his father had given him in the Veil.

Harry reached for the note first.

Harry –

Can't say much

Tell Padfoot it's not his fault

Moony needs to make a move

Find the key incased in stone

When near the secret, it will appear

And then it will unlock the secret

The secret that lies in the forest

Find it and answer the questions you have

Find it before he does

Pay attention to detail

Don't give up, ever

We love you

Harry read it over and over again but he wasn't sure what to think. What was this key that was so important? He looked at the stone Voldemort had lost. Voldemort lost a key in the Veil, could the stone be it?

'_Find the key incased in stone'_

No, Harry thought, the stone wasn't the key. The key was _in_ the stone. And it would only reveal itself if he took it near the secret in the forest. But what forest? Harry supposed his father couldn't tell him that.

'_Pay attention to detail'_

Thinking back to what his father had told him, Harry remembered something.

"_There is someone that can help you, not that they'll think much of it, but they'll give you enough knowledge that you can figure some things out for yourself."_

Could the secret have something to do with that person? Harry guessed he'd never know until he found the location of the so-called secret. Harry had a feeling he was going to need help before finding the secret, not after finding it. Harry contemplated telling Remus and Sirius after they woke up.

'_Pay attention to detail'_

Could Aberforth's words be considered as details? Could he trust the man and his strangeness enough that he could take into consideration what he said?

"_One of you must keep an eye out for something shiny, and when you find it, don't tell. Shiny things are valuable." _

Harry sighed and put his stuff back into his knapsack. He would keep everything he could a secret for the time being. Harry knew he couldn't make any progress on the mysterious key until he could find out about and go to the forest his father mentioned in the letter. All he could do now was wait. Wait until he was back at the Dursley's and his activities weren't monitored to such an enormous degree and pay attention to every detail imaginable.

'_Don't give up, ever'_

--------------------------

The following days passed much quicker than Harry had ever dreamed they could in a hospital. Not only was it fun to just hang out with Remus and Sirius, it turned out Remus was a very important aspect of the Order. It was as if Dumbledore had intentionally put him second in command without ever informing Remus of the arrangement. Harry had quite a few reasons to suspect this was the case because not only did practically every Order member stop by to ask Lupin something at least once in the three days they'd been there (while the more elite like Shacklebolt stopped by at least once a day and the more paranoid like Moody stopped by at least once every few hours). The funny thing was, however, that Remus seemed to have absolutely no idea he was in charge of almost everything Dumbledore didn't have time to do. In a moment of boredom (Sirius and Remus were doing paperwork), Harry told Aberforth about how hilarious he thought Remus was being. For some reason, Aberforth burst out laughing and didn't stop for a good five minutes. For the rest of the day, every time he saw Harry, he would burst out into more fits laughter. This annoyed Harry to such an extent he inadvertently put a silencing charm on Aberforth with wandless magic. Thankfully, Remus had thought Sirius had put the charm on Aberforth and Sirius had thought Remus had, so Harry was still in the clear.

But the slip-up worried him. He hadn't said a word or anything. After he'd gained access to a wand he'd stopped doing weird things (like turning his teachers hair blue) by accident with the exception of blowing up Aunt Marge. Now, however, he found himself doing many things without thinking. And he really had to think. Where the secret was hidden still eluded him, and Sirius and Remus had become rather confused about his sudden obsession with the National Geographic magazines he was using to learn about different forests.

He had, however, figured out a lot about how the Order was run. Mainly from Remus because he had a feeling Sirius was being rather biased in explaining certain things.

"What are you writing?" he asked Remus, curious about what Order business he was taking care of this time.

It was day three of Harry's stay in the hospital. The sky outside the window was a dark, sickly kind of gray. According to Remus and Sirius it was the dementors… breeding. Not a pleasant thought. Now that Voldemort was less occupied with finding ways to attack Harry and figure something out about whatever that stone was, Death Eater activity increased by a tenfold. Harry was quite surprised to see Remus grin back at him instead of grimly explaining what tragedy had happened this time.

"This," he said, "Is a letter to my mother."

"Your mum?" Harry had really never thought about Lupin's parents before.

"Yes, my mum. I don't want to be out of touch with her. Someday, I swear, she is not going to have to work anymore, even if I have to force her into retirement. She's had a very hard life."

"And you haven't?" Harry raised his eyebrows at his ex-professor.

Lupin just shook his head, "It's just… My mum has gone through so much because of _me_. After all these years, I'm still not sure why."

"At least your parents aren't dead because of you." Harry mumbled under his breath.

Apparently, Remus could still hear him, though, and Harry made a vow to never again underestimate a werewolf's sense of hearing.

"Your parents loved you, Harry." Remus told him sternly, "They would have done anything for you, as would Sirius and I. Besides, even if you were the person Voldemort wanted to kill most that… that night, Lily and James were still on his list. You've been told enough about them, I believe, for you to know that Voldemort wanted them dead as well. In fact, if you hadn't been born and destroyed Voldemort that night, your parents would probably still be dead, along with many others."

Harry still didn't agree, no matter how logical Remus's argument sounded. Desperate to change the subject, Harry said:

"So what about your parents? What are your mum and dad like?"

Sirius looked up from what he was doing and gave off a bark of a laugh, "Don't bother asking Remus about his dad. He'll never tell. I've known him for years, and all I know is he's a half-blood wizard, or was a half-blood wizard. Remus won't even tell me if he's alive or not."

Remus glared at his friend, "It's none of your business, Padfoot. Now excuse me while I head up to the hospital owlery to send this letter."

Sirius sighed as his friend left for the owlery.

"So you've never seen Remus's dad?" Harry asked him.

"Nope," Sirius replied, "James and I even went to his place one summer as a surprise for his birthday. Needless to say, he was shocked. See, Remus had never talked about his home life much at first; he was ashamed, I suppose. James and I came from such old, pureblood families that were, naturally, filthy rich. Remus on the other hand, lived alone with his Muggle mum in a small, rundown apartment."

"His dad was never there?"

"Never. And the strangest thing is, James and I got a hold of some Ministry files (don't ask how) and, besides Remus himself, there isn't a half-blood wizard with the surname Lupin living anywhere in the United Kingdom."

-------------------------

When Harry woke up the next morning to find Aurors in the room, he felt sick to his stomach, as if some noxious substance were eating away at its lining. The day they had all been dreading had finally come: the day of Sirius's trial.

Dumbledore was in the room and looked decidedly cheerful. He was wearing deep purple robes with gold embroidery, Aberforth stood right beside him wearing what could only be described of as rags in a simply hideous mustard color. Never had Harry seen two people who looked so alike look so… different.

Sirius was shaking badly. The prospect of a dementors kiss awaited him if he did not win his case. Had they rescued him, Harry thought with a shutter, from a fate worse than death just to have him suffer a fate worse than a fate worse than death? Harry looked down at his hand and realized that he was shaking as well.

"Time to be off!" Dumbledore announced with glee.

Harry almost had a heart attack. The man was starting to sound just like his brother. Sirius could be worse than dead by the end of the day and he was happy?

"So long fair brother, my heart longs for your return!" Aberforth made a grand gesture. "I love you, you stuck up prat!"

"I love you too, you moronic insane maniac!" Dumbledore clapped Aberforth on the back before walking out of the room.

Harry laughed despite himself. What was this? Some strange inside joke between siblings? Harry found himself wondering, for a split second, what it would be like to have a younger brother.

"Are you okay, Sirius?" Harry asked his godfather, who was just standing there with a peculiar look on his face.

"Yes, it's just… my brother and I used to say things like that… just joking around… before… Never mind."

Harry and Remus watched as Sirius took off after Dumbledore. It was then that Harry noticed something unusual about Lupin. There was no emotion in his movements, his voice, or his eyes. It was as if he had drained himself of all feeling, secluding his emotions somewhere too deep to be reached.

"Professor… I mean, Remus," Harry asked, "Are you very good at Occlumency?"

Lupin merely shrugged, "Why do you ask."

"Oh, no reason," Harry responded.

-------------------------

Morning faded to afternoon and the grey clouds Harry was watching rolled along languidly, ignoring the mere mortals that resided below their heavenly abode. He sighed wearily and went back to the book he had been reading. It was entitled Magical Memory and it dealt with how to remember even the tiniest details and how the process worked. It also covered memory charms and such. Harry flipped through the chapter on Pensieves, but the next chapter caught his attention quickly. It told of a highly advanced spell called that acted like a Pensieve and helped the caster relive their memories. Glancing over to look at Lupin and finding the ex-professor engulfed in his work, he decided he would try the spell with wandless magic. He didn't expect anything to happen but when he whispered the incantation, _memensita_, and closed his eyes, he suddenly saw snatches of memory, his vision from when he was inside Voldemort's mind.

"_Stand up Avery! Peterson, take care of that body. As for you, Raulie, I want a full-scale search of that Veil for my key. Get moving, I have an appointment with a certain rat who made an incredibly imprudent slip-up this afternoon."_

Harry's eyes snapped open and he felt suddenly dizzy and drained. Grabbing an old notebook from his knapsack, he wrote down everything he had heard in the conversation. A rat made a slip-up? How could that be relevant? Unless…

"I'M FREE!"

Harry jumped a foot in the air and turned around quickly to see his godfather bounding into the room, on his face was the largest grin Harry had ever seen. Sirius was wearing extremely extravagant robes with the Black Family crest on them and his hair was tied back in a very regal looking manner. In fact, he looked so unlike he had during their first meeting Harry almost didn't recognize him. A smile formed on his face as well and he ran to Sirius and held on to him as tightly as possible, fearful that he would disappear at any moment. When he finally let go and glanced at Remus, Lupin's face seemed to crumble like stone. His eyes held more emotion than Harry thought possible and he leapt up and hugged Sirius so fiercely they both toppled down.

"Moony, you know I love you mate, but I don't swing that way." Sirius joked in a muffled voice.

Remus, who was shaking now, popped Sirius on the head good-naturally, "You prat! If you ever scare me like that again, I'll… I'll…"

"Growl at me?"

Remus growled, "No. I only do that when you make incredibly injudicious jokes at farcically inopportune moments."

"You're doing it again, Moony."

"Doing what?"

"Using too many big words."

Harry couldn't help it; he started to laugh and didn't stop laughing. It was a desperate laugh, an outlet of relief that Sirius was alive. He laughed and laughed, his sides aching from exertion, his head spinning from lack of oxygen and fatigue over the charm he'd just done with wandless magic.

"Harry, are you okay?" Sirius asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'll be fine in a moment," Harry responded, trying hard to control his breathing, "Just… Merlin, Sirius! What happened? How did you prove you were innocent?"

Sirius grinned, "Turns out, even though we didn't see him, Pettigrew was at the Department of Mysteries a few days ago as well. When we came back out of the Veil, he got nervous about being seen and slipped away in the commotion then transformed into a rat. Some kid saw him though, and took a bunch of pictures of him before, during, and after his transformation. Pettigrew got away, but the evidence was pretty damn irrefutable especially after I took Veritaserum. No one knew about this until the boy read an article in the paper about me and got his film developed. Dumbledore himself just found out this morning."

"_I have an appointment with a certain rat who made an incredibly imprudent slip-up this afternoon."_

Harry started laughing again.

'_Pay attention to detai.'_

Merlin, was he ever doing a horrible job of that! If he'd been able to remember things better, it would have saved himself and others a lot of pointless worry.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked, repeating Sirius's earlier query.

Harry attempted once again to calm himself, "Yes… I'm… Let's go for a walk."

Both men raised their eyebrows at him.

"What?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Go on a walk. You know… go outside and wander around. That sort of thing."

Remus laughed this time, "I highly doubt the Healers would let us go."

Desperate to get outside for reasons not even he understood, Harry said, "Then let's sneak out!"

"Sneak out?"

"Yeah! You two did it a lot when you were younger, why not now?"

Sirius and Remus both stared at Harry, stared at each other, then stared at Aberforth.

"Don't worry," the bearded man cackled, "I'll cover for you."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Sirius grinned at his friend and godson and Accio-ed some Muggle clothes towards himself, "Let's go for it."

-----------------

Outside, the clouds had parted slightly, and Harry relaxed somewhat. The sun was warm and welcoming for a change. Harry hadn't been outside for quite some time, and the warmth was just enough to make him gain a little more faith in humanity. The three of them had walked all the way to St. James Park, and were perfectly content to keep walking. Eventually, however, as none of them was entirely healthy yet, they unanimously decided to rest on the grass beneath an enormous tree.

"Merlin, I missed the sun and the sky." Sirius whispered softly. "It's true, you know, what they say about never fully appreciating something until it's gone." Then, trying to break up the sappy moment he'd accidently started, said, "In truth, I should have realized that when Mum confiscated my records the summer before fifth year."

"Wasn't that the summer you ran away?" Harry asked.

"Yep, I don't think I could've taken one more day without the sound of an electric guitar."

This comment made Harry laugh. Then he looked up at the sun and the sky, wondering how terrible it must have been for Sirius to have lacked them for so long.

Lupin glared at his friend, "Don't let him think you're anything less than you really are, Sirius. The real reason you ran away was because your parents found out about my lycanthropy and threatened to leak the information to the public."

Harry's head snapped up, "Really?"

"Yeah," Sirius sighed, looking a little uncomfortable, "I stunned them both before I left too. Then I headed over to James's place for help in not getting expelled. Luckily, his parents took me straight to Dumbledore and he glossed everything over. Remus never would have found out if James hadn't filled him in."

Harry's mouth twitched upwards a tad. Sirius, through all the overwhelming confidence he'd apparently had as a kid, was still humble in his own way.

"Well, well, well…" came a voice from above, "It appears those with the names Potter, Lupin, and Black still have a knack for showing up together when it comes to being in places they're not supposed to be."

Those with the names Potter, Lupin, and Black all looked up, startled. They only became more startled when they realized the voice was that of Albus Dumbledore. Not to mention, the Headmaster was sitting on one of the tree branches above them dressed in a Muggle suit.

"Professor Dumbledore! What are you doing up there?" Harry asked.

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled merrily, "Merely trying to discover what three of Voldemort's salient targets are doing in the middle of Muggle London in various states of ill health."

Lupin looked incredibly guilty, and strangely, so did Sirius.

"We brought our wands," Harry reassured the man a tad defensively, "and it was all my idea to sneak out in the first place. I just needed some fresh air and I think Sirius and Remus needed some too."

Dumbledore didn't speak at first, merely nodded and jumped down from the tree and sat by Harry.

"I do think you're doing well, Harry." Dumbledore stated serenely after a moment, "I want you to know, nothing great is expected of you quite yet. Although some fools may count on you completely to stop Voldemort as soon as possible, the Order knows you still have much to learn before you can get too involved in the war."

Harry acquiesced with a slight nod of his head. The four sat in silence for a while, before Harry interrupted.

"What does Aberforth think about all of this?"

Dumbledore frowned a bit, "I'm not entirely sure why you asked that question Harry, although I don't think it would do any good to hide it from you. According to Aberforth I should 'wait', and that is all he has to say on the matter. Nothing more, nothing less."

Harry nodded again, pondering these words. Should he wait? No, the words were for Dumbledore, not him.

"I must admit," Dumbledore spoke up again, "I'm impressed with your knowledge of how magic works. I know I've said it before, but I feel the need to say it again. The theory you spoke of earlier, which I have no doubt is true, is denied by many who choose instead to believe that they are born with magic inside of themselves, instead of being born able to draw magic into themselves through outside sources. They don't realize that just existing is magic, everything existing is magic."

"So magic is everywhere?" Harry asked.

"In every blade of grass," the Headmaster replied with a smile. "Although Dementors can pollute magic with dark forces that make it harder to work with, that's one of the many reasons it's so hard to escape Azkaban. With the small amount of wandless magic I'm capable of, I could probably just barely escape."

"Unless you were in _The Cell_," Sirius shuddered, saying the place's name in a way one knows is meant to be capitalized, "It's down on the bottom floor of Azkaban, right next to an enormous room where Dementors normally go when they're not feasting on the prisoner's happiness. The inmates got threatened with the place a great deal when I was in Azkaban."

"Wasn't that place outlawed hundreds of years ago for being too cruel for anyone?" Lupin inquired.

"Yes it was." Dumbledore confirmed, "The majority of those put in it begged for death ten minutes after being trapped in there. Alas, it is deplorable that a place like that even exists, but I do believe it's a moot point now. It is time you three get back to St. Mungo's before anyone else realizes your absence. I've already made up a portkey for you. Oh, and Harry," Dumbledore paused in the act of handing over a box of lemon drops, "I'll be picking you up tomorrow at noon to escort you back to your relatives. Be ready."

That said, Dumbledore handed them the lemon drop portkey and jumped into the tree, abruptly disappearing into the branches above. A moment later, Harry felt a familiar jerk on his navel and managed to take one last look around him. Earth and air and life were everywhere. And where there was nature and life, there was magic. It could be found almost anywhere, so long as one knew to look for it.

"_One really can be find magic in the strangest places,"_ Harry thought as his world started spinning uncontrollably at the pull of the portkey, _"Perhaps, it can even be found at the Dursley's."  
_

------------------

Harry's backpack was packed and his normal Muggle attire was on. He had said goodbye to his friends for one last time until school and paced around the hospital room glumly for what seemed the millionth time that day. Dumbledore was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes, and Harry couldn't help but be thoroughly miserable about returning to his aunt and uncle's.

"Is it normal for kids these days to have holes in their jeans?" Sirius asked, apparently getting exasperated with Harry's consistent pacing.

Harry shrugged and stopped his tiresome tread to sit next to his godfather, "It depends on the person, I suppose." He said, not wanting Sirius and Remus knowing he was wearing the jeans because they were hand-me-downs and all the Dursley's would give him, "I, for one, don't think I need to dress nice when I'm just going to be hanging around at my relative's house for the rest of the summer."

"Still, would you like me to patch those up for you so they'll last longer?" Remus said while gesturing to a patch on his own pants.

"Nah, I honestly don't care about clothes where the Dursley's are concerned. So what are guys going to do for the remainder of the summer?"

Both men just shrugged.

"Order business most likely," Remus responded. "According to all our sources, Voldemort's mood has improved considerably as of late. Voldemort in a pleasant mood definitely cannot be good for the rest of the world."

"Way to go, Moony. Bring up the bad news again, why don't you?" Sirius said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm really going to miss you guys," Harry said sadly. "I probably won't see you all summer, then I'll have to go to school and I still won't see you!"

Sirius and Remus looked first at each other then at Harry.

"Don't think we aren't going to write, Harry," Remus reassured him.

"Maybe we can even visit a few times if Dumbledore gives us permission," Sirius added, "And if he doesn't give us permission, we'll try to visit anyway."

Harry smiled at this. A moment later, Albus Dumbledore opened the door and walked into the room.

"Hello, Harry. Are you ready to go?" He said kindly. "Alas, I see my brother has once again disappeared."

"Uh-huh, no surprise there," Harry stated as he gave one last goodbye to Remus and Sirius before following Dumbledore out of the room.

In the hallway, headmaster and student were silent as they walked, side by side, immersed in thoughts that were different yet surprisingly similar. Each one was a puzzle to the other, and the contrast between silvery white beard and pitch black hair had never seemed more prominent to either of them.

"Promise me, Harry," Dumbledore spoke softly as they walked into the main entrance, "That you won't put yourself into any unnecessary danger while at your relative's home. I don't want you leaving your neighborhood, and it would be best if you left the residence as little as possible."

"I promise, sir." Harry responded solemnly, his fingers crossed behind his back while he said it.

Dumbledore, thankfully, was too distracted to notice this small act and merely nodded before turning to a Healer at a desk to check Harry out of the hospital.

"You shouldn't cross two pairs of fingers behind your back, you know?" said a dreamy voice in Harry's ear while Dumbledore was busy. "They'll cancel each other out."

Harry turned around quickly to come face-to-face with Luna Lovegood, who had a very serious look on her face.

Harry shrugged, "I just promised him I wouldn't put myself in unnecessary danger. He didn't make me promise I wouldn't leave the house. Besides, our definitions of unnecessary danger may differ a bit, and I'm going by mine."

It felt odd, trying to explain himself to Luna, but he felt he needed to explain. The girl just gave him a dreamy smile and told him he should read the Quibbler more often.

When Dumbledore turned back to Harry, Luna was gone. Dumbledore than proceeded to introduce Harry to the wonders of side-along Apparation, which made Harry feel as if he'd been squeezed through a very tight tube. They ended up right in front of Number 4 Privet Drive, and Harry get the feeling the Muggles on the street could not see or hear him as no one seemed perturbed or even glanced their way when the magically appeared in the middle of the street.

"Well, Harry, this is where we part. I do hope you have a good summer. And don't worry," he said, taking in Harry's perturbed expression as a random Muggles walked past them, not paying any heed to Dumbledore's strange, wizarding attire, "Your relatives will still be able to see you. And the other Muggles will be able to as well the minute you are safely in the house with the door closed."

Harry nodded, wondering if he could learn to do something of the sort. As he started walking up to the front door, he realized that maybe this arrangement was best. He could not put anyone in danger here, and he would be able to practice wandless magic without the whole wizarding world finding out and going ballistic. All he had to do was stay on Vernon's good side and keep making the Mind-Trapping Potion and everything would be alright.

When Harry reached the door, he turned around to look at Dumbledore one last time. But without a sight or sound, the Headmaster had already disappeared.

* * *

In the **Next Chapter**, Undercover with Underwear, Harry returns to a family of not-so-happy Dursley's, has major trouble controlling his magic, overhears something he's not supposed to, and once again decides to take matters into his own hands. But this time, the events that follow will become more life changing than Harry could ever imagine. Watch out Dumbledore, Harry may end up getting 'too involved' in the war sooner than you think!

**Why I Haven't Updated in Forever:** Not that anyone really cares, but it turned out this chapter was harder to write than I thought. After a battle with writers block, I finally got close to done! Then I got writers block again and made up my own language. Then I made up a world that could have that language as their "ancient language". Then I made up some characters for my world which turned into me attempting to write an epic fantasy series. Which I shall not give up on! I hope... I have the beginning and the end; it's just the middle that's fuzzy. Really fuzzy.

**Before people start telling me that a record player couldn't work in Hogwarts,** J.K.R. said this (among other things) on her official website: "Cameras, like radios… do exist in the wizarding world… Wizards do not need electricity to make these things work; they function by magic, but in the case of such objects the wizards like the Muggle invention enough to appropriate the idea without adding cumbersome plugs/batteries." So Sirius could have been using one at Hogwarts like Colin Creevey uses a camera. Also, I believe **Sirius could have discovered Muggle rock music** while trying to find new ways to piss off his parents and decided he liked it.

Great Scot! I just discovered all I need to do to **communicate with my reviewers** is click 'reply'! I shall no longer get discouraged looking up everyone's email to reply to them!

The **Mind-Trapping Potion** is not canon.

Not only is_** memensita** _not canon; it is a random, made up word that, as far as I know, means nothing in Latin or any other language.

The **channeling magic** idea came from the Wheel of Time series (except in those books you channel the One Power) and it will be very important later on.

Once again I try to tap into the mind of **Severus Snape** and once again I fail. Suggestions are welcome. I'm not exactly a snarky person by nature so it's hard for me to get him in character.

**St. James Park** is the closest big park to the Holborn area in London where, according to the HP Lexicon, the most likely site for St. Mungo's is located.

I had some great ideas for Albus **Dumbledore's past** I might want to squeeze in here (or someplace else if I get the motivation). If I manage it, please ignore the fact I've taken a few ideas from various manga.


	14. Undercover with Underwear

**Defending the Light**

**Summary:** Harry makes up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, with no idea it'll include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, Azkaban, exotic new powers, and… a secret identity? Will he be able to keep his secrets without losing everything else?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

I needed a way for Harry to get into pretty good shape quickly and efficiently. I hope you guys like my idea.

* * *

_When Harry reached the door, he turned around to look at Dumbledore one last time. But without a sight or sound, the Headmaster had already disappeared. _

Chapter 14: Undercover with Underwear 

"Idiot."

"Wanker."

"Git."

"Nerd."

"Arse."

"Prat."

The second the door was closed, Harry and Dudley started randomly volleying out insults at each other for no particular reason except intense disdain. This riveting conversation of one word utterances continued until Harry reached the door to his room, which opened without him having to even touch the door. Harry, angry at himself for once again losing control over his magic, just got angrier, thus making the light fixture in the hall flick on and off several times in an all-around creepy manner.

Dudley jumped about a foot in the air, something Harry had previously thought impossible for someone of Dudley girth, and yelled, "Why couldn't you have just died in that stupid portal thing? The world would have been much better off without your freakish self in it!"

As he opened the door to his room, Harry once again wished desperately that he could have stayed with Sirius and Remus. He quickly reminded himself he now had all the privacy he needed to work on his wandless magic and find out what was going on that was making him lose his control over his powers. Harry now had two months to do it, but he wasn't really sure if he could. Harry's room was the same as it was when he'd left it a week ago and yet so much seemed to have changed since then. He had discovered much, but part of what he had discovered was that there was still much he didn't know.

Not for the first time, Harry briefly wondered if he should travel to the Forbidden Forest and look around with the stone/key, as he opened his backpack and let the contents spill pell-mell onto his bed. But that was illogical and Harry knew it. Whatever the secret was, it was probably hidden somewhere much more obscure than the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore knew the forest too well. Harry wasn't sure how close he had to be to the 'secret' for the stone to turn into a key (or whatever it would do) anyway. The probability of something crazy like walking into the forest and having the stone turn into a treasure map was a very slim one. There was, after all, a chance that the stone wasn't the key his father had meant at all.

"Potter!"

The sound of his uncle's yell brought Harry out of his thoughts.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry called down the stairs as he made his way to the kitchen.

When he reached his destination, he found Vernon sitting at the kitchen table glaring menacingly at him.

"Well," Vernon snapped, "As you're obviously still alive, why don't you make yourself useful and weed the front yard. Dinner is expected at six o'clock sharp, and you will be making it."

"Right," Harry nodded glumly, not wanting an argument with his uncle.

The reluctant Boy-Who-Lived grabbed a book of spells he planned to memorized and took it outside with him. He had it enchanted to look like a Muggle gardening book to everyone but him, so the large volume of magical information didn't draw any attention. Using a little obscure wandless magic and a small charm he learned in a Dark Arts book that inhibited the Ministry from tracking small acts of magic done in Muggle areas, Harry finished the gardening in record time. He had bought the book via owl order under a fake name from a rather esoteric shop in Knockturn Alley

When Harry looked up from his work, he noticed Vernon's car was not parked in the garage as it normally was. To the average person, this small fact may not have seamed strange. But Harry knew Vernon, and he rarely parked his car in the driveway for no reason; he was too paranoid someone was going to steal it. Harry walked to where the side door of the garage was. When he opened it, Harry got a surprise; the garage had been transformed into a state-of-the-art gym.

"Hey," Dudley sneered at Harry as he went to inspect the various weights, "Get out of my back-from-school present."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Apparently, Vernon was a very pleased that his son had made the wrestling team again.

"What does this thing do?" Harry asked curiously, inspecting a random piece of equipment.

When he got no response, Harry just shrugged. He'd figure it out later. Contemplating the situation Harry found, although he'd certainly have to clean it, the new gym in the house was far from disadvantageous. One of the Defense Against the Dark Arts books Sirius and Remus had given him had suggested having knowledge of Muggle defense and staying in shape would help with ones dueling ability. Harry hadn't had as much time at school to focus on his physical fitness; he just assumed Quidditch would work fine for exercise. Now, however, Harry had plenty of time, and the extreme motivation of having to defeat Voldemort. He walked over to the weights again and picked one up, lifting it up in down haphazardly.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dudley stopped bench-pressing and asked him in a very deprecating manner.

"Er… lifting weights."

Dudley snorted, "I can see that, but, bloody hell, what are you _trying_ to do? What muscles are you trying to work? Biceps? Triceps? Does your puny little self even know what a muscle is?"

Deciding to ignore the insults for once, an exasperated Harry replied, albeit quite moodily, "Well if I'm so horrible at this, why don't you enlighten me on the right way to lift these damn things."

"Fine," Dudley replied, haughtily, before proceeding to do something he had never done before.

He started giving Harry a lecture.

After years of Harry knowing more than him, years of Harry getting better marks than him, Dudley had finally discovered he knew something that his cousin didn't. Harry just stared for a moment before he registered that what Dudley was saying could probably help him and accio-ed a pen and piece of paper to himself so he could write it all down. Not only did Dudley seem to know everything about exercise and training but the proper way to construct a healthy diet as well. Apparently, Dudley had actually taken in more from the constant lectures from doctors and school nurses about his health than anyone could have ever imagined.

Fifteen minutes later, Dudley was still talking.

"And _that_ is how you properly exercise your pectoral muscles. The abdomen, on the other hand… you're actually taking notes?"

Harry started at the abrupt change in direction Dudley's words had taken, "Yes. Why are you stopping?"

"I think I'm more freaked out about your listening to me than I am about that pen writing by itself," Dudley rubbed his temples and stared at the pen Harry had enchanted to take notes for him.

"Yeah, well, my hand got tired. And for your information… well, blimey, I need your information."

"Why? Are you getting beat up at your school? Ha! I knew you were a total loser!"

"Not exactly…"

"What in the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"I'm trying to improve my dueling ability so I can one day defeat the evil and powerful wizard who killed my parents because I'm prophesied to be the only one who can kill him and, in the meantime, protect myself from his army of psycho underlings."

"Very funny, Potter. Pull the other one."

Harry sighed, he knew his cousin wouldn't believe him, "Well can you at least keep talking. I need to know the quickest, most efficient ways to get into shape. And I don't think learning how to fight would be a bad idea either."

Actually, Harry thought it might very well be a great idea. No use in training to fight Voldemort for years only to get caught off guard without his wand by some random mugger. He could just see the headlines: "Boy-Who-Lived Killed by Muggle Attempting to Steal His Non-Existent Wallet." Voldemort would probably throw a fit if a petty Muggle thief took down his archenemy when Riddle himself could not get to him. Then Voldemort would probably celebrate. Harry's very strange mental image of the wizarding world's most feared dark wizard since Grindelwald and his Death Eaters having a margarita party was brusquely ended when Dudley opened his mouth.

"Why should I help you? Why should I care if you're getting beat up at school."

"I'm not getting beat up at school! But anyway, that's not the point… Er… A deal! You can do deals right? If you help me with my strength training, I'll help you with your summer homework. And don't even pretend you don't need help. I heard your mum talking on the phone to the headmistress at Smeltings at the beginning of the holiday and according to them, you'll be expelled if you don't complete and do well on all of your summer assignments. I also heard you've got to retake your exams before the end of August in order to go on the next grade level as well."

"And what if I am expelled?"

"I don't think any other private school will accept you. And I hear Stonewall is getting really bad funding and had to drop their wrestling team from the curriculum this past year."

"Fine then, but I'd better see results or I'm pulling out."

"Same here. Now what were you saying about the abdomen…?"

------------------

The evening had passed in a blur of housework and studying magic. Harry had a few problems with his wandless magic again, but nothing too bad. It seemed to him that the more he practiced wandless magic, the less he completely lost control over it. After dinner, Harry still continued to work nonstop by escaping back to the gym. When midnight rolled around, he was still there, doing weightlifting exercises and reading and rereading Dark Arts books, trying desperately to memorize every spell. He wished he had someone to practice dueling with so he could really put some of his knowledge to the test. It is always a lot easier to remember spells in the comfort of a safe haven than it is to remember them when you're fighting to the death in a wizard's duel.

"You're still awake? I thought it was weird the light was still on in here."

Harry turned to see Dudley standing in the doorway in his pajamas with a bag of crisps in hand.

"I thought you said too much sodium isn't good for a person," Harry rolled his eyes at the bag of crisps.

"You know," continued Dudley, ignoring Harry's last comment, "If you keep working yourself like this when you're not used to this kind of exercise, you won't be able to move later on."

"I can handle it."

"Yeah, but can your body?"

"It's already gone sort of numb anyway. If I meditate and concentrate on my studies hard enough, I can't feel anything. And I'm determined to adequately exercise every individual muscle like you told me before I go to bed."

"Alright then," Dudley snorted, "but when you feel like shit in the morning, don't come crying to me."

It was three in the morning by the time Harry fell asleep. And for once, he didn't have any trouble drifting off.

----------------

4 hours later:

"WAKE UP, BOY! I NEED TO GET TO WORK AND BREAKFAST ISN'T GOING TO COOK ITSELF!"

Harry groaned. He wanted to die. He wanted to drop dead and lose all feeling in body.

While stumbling downstairs, Dudley gave Harry a very smug 'I-told-you-so' look before going back into his room to catch some extra sleep before breakfast. Harry then proceeded to fall down the stairs and accidentally smash a vase with wandless magic out of frustration. Luckily, he was able to repair it again using wandless magic as well. Stumbling into the kitchen, Harry found that simple tasks were going to be very difficult to accomplish, as it was sheer torture just to bend over to retrieve the pots and pans from the bottom self. Aunt Petunia walked into the kitchen just as Harry was tripping over his own feet.

"What did you do to yourself?" Petunia griped as she grabbed Harry roughly by the arm and shoved him into a chair, "One second thought, don't answer that. I think I already know. You were in that gym weren't you? Typical."

Harry grumbled, "What's so typical about it?"

"Boy, with parents like yours there couldn't be anything more typical." Petunia responded as she started to make breakfast herself.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, completely forgetting the pain in the light of discovering something new about his parents.

Petunia sighed, "Both of your parents were very stubborn and very driven, especially your mother. If she was going to do something, she was going to go all out and she was going to do it right. I used to envy her in my youth, she always got such good marks in school and everyone seemed to like her. But that was pretty daft of me I suppose. She worked hard for everything she got. But, not unlike yourself, Lily sometimes went a little too far. One night she stayed up much too late studying for a test and by the time she had to take it, she was exhausted and did poorly on it. So you see, things like studying and exercising are both good things, but too much of a good thing is still too much, and you have to know your limits. I think Lily learned that as the years went by, and both your parents learned to realize it when they had you. Even your father matured some then."

"Did you know both of them very well then?" Harry inquired.

"Yes, I did." Aunt Petunia sighed, "I went to their wedding, snuck there more like it. Vernon didn't want me to go. It was enjoyable; I got acquainted and reacquainted with some very interesting characters there. I am actually quite glad Sirius Black is still alive; he was a very charming, mischievous man and I did enjoy his company." She laughed, "Your mother chucked an enormous piece of cake at his face during the reception when he made some lewd comment about the bridesmaids and then chucked another piece at your father for laughing at it. Of course I lost contact with your parents when they went into hiding. Lily visited me one last time before she left and I never saw or heard from her again."

Both aunt and nephew were silent for a while as Aunt Petunia prodded the bangers in the pan.

A few minutes passed before Petunia reverted to her normal self and barked snappishly at Harry, "Stop sitting around, you've had enough rest. Set the table. Now!"

Harry jumped up, almost falling over again. While he set the table that morning, Harry contemplated his aunt's strange behavior. Eventually Vernon came down to breakfast, as did Dudley. Harry just sat at the table and picked at his food, both pain and restlessness having ruined his appetite, but Vernon didn't notice. Time seemed to fly for Harry, and in short order, when he looked up from his untouched food, he found himself once again alone in the kitchen with Aunt Petunia.

"Go upstairs, boy." Petunia told her nephew in her usual petulant tone, "I know you're making some strange concoctions up there, so go take something that will put you to rights. Then take some aspirin or something. You're of no use to anyone in your present state."

Harry nodded silently before saying quietly, "Aunt Petunia, I know you may not think much of it… and, well, you're usually pretty cold towards me. But just so you know, when you talked to me about my parents, I was… glad. Thank you."

That said, Harry made his way up the stairs, not looking back once. He didn't know how his aunt had reacted to his statement, and he didn't really want to know. Her silence told of her customary indifference to her nephew, and Harry didn't feel like being faced with another cold expression.

Although if he had looked back, Harry might have observed that Aunt Petunia's grip on the cloth she was using to wash the dishes had tightened. He might have noticed that the pace of her washing had sped up considerably and she became clumsier in her movements. And if he hadn't been so eager to retreat back to his room, Harry might have heard Aunt Petunia drop a plate, might have heard it shatter. Harry might have wandered back into the kitchen and seen his aunt drop to the floor, trying desperately to pick up all the pieces and cutting herself in the process. He could have watched her silently as she stared at her bloody hand, turned her head to the ceiling, and asked no one in particular why picking up pieces always had to hurt so much…

But he didn't. And life continued as it normally did at number four Privet Drive. Well… almost.

------------------

"What do you _mean_ you don't know how to calculate the volume of a triangular prism? It says right here in your book."

"It says (½bw)(h). What the hell does that even mean?"

Harry groaned audibly and rubbed his temples. It was a sunny afternoon on Privet Drive and Harry had just managed to take a break from housework only to end up helping his cousin do homework. Three days had gone by since he'd made his deal with Dudley, and now he was paying for it. Apparently, Dudley's headmistress had given him not only homework to do over the holidays, but copies of all the assignments he had ever blown off to do as well.

Dudley had blown off a _lot_ of assignments at Smeltings.

Harry really hoped he'd get some time for his own homework eventually. He'd been studying a bunch, but studying dark magic and magical philosophy, as useful and interesting as it was, could not be turned in to professors for credit. Harry imagined McGonagal would have a conniption if he ever tried. And Snape… Snape would probably murder him. Although Harry doubted he'd have much trouble in potions in his sixth year since he was having so much practice at home. Yesterday he had brewed himself a variety of healing potions for his muscles, he was still sore, but he felt much better now. The only problem with all the potions he'd taken was that the high magical content in his bloodstream could make the Mind-Trapping Potion react strangely, so Harry had had to skimp on his daily dose. But he doubted Voldemort would try to break into his mind now, especially after he'd had it guarded for so long.

Harry sighed, "Why don't you work on something else for a while, I need to do laundry. You do remember how to calculate the volume of a _rectangular_ prism, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dudley said, "Bwh, base times width times… wait a minute."

Harry sighed again, this time with relief. It seemed getting Dudley to understand geometry was going to be less of a nightmare than trying to get him to understand Shakespeare had been. It wasn't that his cousin was completely stupid; Dudley just hadn't paid attention to anything academic in the past sixteen years of his life.

Harry quickly made his way over to the washing machine and dryer. He took the whites out of the dryer and put them in a basket, took the darks out of the washing machine and put them in the dryer, and took the lights out of a hamper and put them into the washing machine. When he finished, Harry leaned over to pick up the basket of whites to carry upstairs, but was suddenly overtaken by a wave of nausea and an abrupt dizzy feeling.

The next instant, Harry knocked over the hamper and fell into the pile of clothes before his world went completely black. The next thing he knew, he was in a dark room looking angrily at a group of cowering Death Eaters.

"Fools!" He heard himself say in a voice that wasn't his own. "There was no reason for an attack there! You could have given away the location of the Temple."

Harry, who had been cursing up a storm in his head for skimping on the Mind-Trapping Potion, perked up mentally. Maybe accidentally transporting himself into Voldemort's mind wasn't such a bad thing after all. He didn't know how it had happened, but from past experience, he got the feeling it had something to do with Voldemort's emotions. Voldemort was, at the moment, very angry, which had probably triggered Harry's connection to him through the scar to react.

"M… Master," one of the Death Eaters spoke up, "W… we did not believe we were disobeying orders. It was only a small Muggle village in the largest forest in the country and we only mildly harassed some of them…"

"There was a death, McAllen, a death!" Voldemort practically shrieked.

"But…"

At his last words, and they really were his last words, Voldemort hit McAllen with the killing curse, effectively scaring the crap out of every Death Eater there. Harry was a bit unnerved by the whole situation, but remained focused on his goal of figuring out at least a hint of one of Voldemort's plans.

Voldemort's gaze fell on his Death Eaters as he spoke, "You are all very lucky. If the Brazilian Wizarding government wasn't so eager to cover everything up, the Order of the Phoenix may have been given a clue to the whereabouts of the Temple and the prize within it that both sides seek. I told all of you to set up camp in the forest, but also to not draw unneeded attention to yourselves."

"Yes, master," the Death Eaters chorused.

Harry had the sudden feeling he was being tugged at by an unseen force.

"The day after tomorrow," he heard Voldemort say while at the same time being pulled back into his own body, "We will attempt to get into the Temple even without the key. No thanks to any of you, the effort put into untangling the ancient protection spells is coming along…"

Harry never knew how it was coming along because a moment later he was back in front of the washing machine, lying in a pile of the Dursley's underwear.

"Boy!" Petunia snapped, "What are you doing!"

"I… I'm sorry." Harry stuttered, a bit shaken by the suddenness of the events that had just elapsed, "I didn't mean to… I…"

Deciding he needed to more space to think things through, Harry bolted to his room. He ended up running right smack into Dudley instead.

"What are you doing?" his cousin asked.

"Going to my room."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

Harry sighed, exasperated, and decided to just tell the truth since Dudley wouldn't believe him anyway, "Because I just saw a vision and spied on the evil dude who killed my parents."

Dudley snorted, proving Harry's earlier assumptions correct, "So you're saying you were undercover?"

"Er… sort of."

"With underwear?"

It took Harry a moment to comprehend what Dudley meant. Then he reached up and realized he had a pair of Vernon's underwear on his head.

"No wonder you're getting beat up at school," Dudley said gleefully as he walked away.

"I AM NOT GETTING BEAT UP AT SCHOOL!" Harry yelled.

Once upstairs, the 'Chosen One' replayed the vision in his head. Voldemort had mentioned a forest. He was looking for a forest. The Temple obviously had something to do with the key. Was the Temple the secret then? Probably, Harry thought. But what was in it? He jogged his mind until he suddenly remembered something.

"_There is a book, a book of spells, potions, and other ancient forms of magic little known throughout history, and completely forgotten in the precious cycle of age…"_

The book! Harry's mind raced. Voldemort was looking for that magical book and he'd found it. In a temple! But he couldn't get in the Temple without the key… or unraveling the ancient protection spells. Where was the Temple though?

"_We suspect it lies somewhere in South America." _Dumbledore had said.

South America, but where in South America was the Temple and the book? Voldemort had mentioned Brazil. Were there forests in Brazil, and if so which one was the Temple in? A couple seconds later, it clicked.

"Do you think," Harry asked Hedwig in a hushed voice, "the Temple Voldemort was talking about could be in the Amazon Rainforest?"

Hedwig just hooted in response. Telling himself that he was not crazy for talking to an owl because he'd only really been talking to himself, and brushing off the fact that talking to yourself is one of the first signs of insanity, Harry ran a hand through his hair. He needed all the information on the Amazon Rainforest that he could get. Harry, however, didn't exactly have the means to acquire such information. The Dursley's didn't keep that many books, and if there was one thing Uncle Vernon hated almost as much as people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and, of course, Harry, it was nature. He didn't have a library card because the Dursleys didn't want him seen in public in the first place. And Dumbledore had advised him to stay in the neighborhood and in the house as much as possible. So Harry was unsure of where to get information.

"Dudley!" he yelled from the top of the stairs.

"What?" Dudley responded, obviously annoyed.

"Can you go to the library and get me some books on the Amazon Rainforest and Brazil?"

"No."

"But…"

"No."

"But…"

Dudley rolled his eyes, "You moron, I'm not going to waste my time going to the library to get _books,_" he said the word as though it was something rotten and disgusting, "on some stupid rainforest. Even if I did want to help you, I still wouldn't go. You can easily get information on anything on the Internet, I swear… Hey! Where are you…"

Harry was already on Dudley's computer before the sentence could be finished.

"Mum!" Dudley called down the stairs, "Potter's on my computer!"

"Boy, get off Dudley's computer," Aunt Petunia gave a shrill yell from the kitchen.

Harry didn't get off; he was too busy trying to figure out how to work the computer by clicking random icons.

"He's not getting off and he's going to end up making it combust or something. He has no idea how to work it!" Dudley whined.

Harry swore he could hear Aunt Petunia sigh from all the way downstairs, "I'm busy right now. Boy, you're going to get it when your uncle gets home if you don't get off!"

Dudley smirked at his cousin in triumph.

"Don't get too excited," Harry told Dudley, "The information I'll gain here will be well worth whatever your dad has in store for me."

Deciding he'd just have to deal with Harry himself, and completely forgetting his cousin was a wizard with connections to 'dangerous murderers', Dudley took a swing at Harry, prepared to give him the 'old one two'. Unfortunately for Dudley, Harry had not forgotten the fact he was a wizard and soon had his cousin in a body bind curse.

"Let me go!" Dudley almost begged a second after he'd tried to throttle his captor.

"Tell me how to work the Internet and I will." Harry replied.

"I won't tell you anything!" Dudley responded, sweat running down his face, "I… I'll tell dad…"

"Breathe a word of this to Vernon Dursley and you will never get any help from me ever again," Harry stated calmly, "Also, I _will_ give you a pig tail like Hagrid did that one time."

This shut Dudley up, as having that pigtail removed had most likely been a less than pleasant experience. So instead of beating up his cousin like he intended, Dudley ended up explaining to Harry the basics of working a computer. All in all, Harry learned that the Amazon Rainforest occupied 7 million km2, 60 of them which were in Brazil. When he tried to find out who in Brazil had died lately, he found that the deaths were mostly recorded as natural or accidents. And the only people who had been murdered there lately lived in bigger cities, not small towns. Eventually, Harry had to stop his constant Google-ing (as Dudley called it) and go make dinner.

At dinner, Harry was shocked Petunia didn't mention his earlier antics. Thankfully, he had scared Dudley enough that the boy didn't say a word. After doing the dishes, Harry ran upstairs to find a strange owl on his bed, a letter clutched in its claw. It was from Elaina Lafina.

_Dear Harry,_

_Greetings from Brasília! I hope you are feeling better since the last time I saw you. That's really all I wanted to say. Strange, I know, that I'm writing to you, but I think you're a good kid and I don't really want to sever ties with you. _

_I've been quite busy over here in Brazil, besides all this diplomatic business I've been put up to, there's been two Death Eater attacks here (one I mentioned earlier in Porto Villa and another one just yesterday at a small Muggle village called Floresta). It is not too strange for Death Eaters to attack out of the United Kingdom, but having two so close together and in the same country is more than a little odd. Some government officials have told me that the Order of the Phoenix has been alerted, so I suppose it will be up to Dumbledore to decide if investigations should take place. (I can't say much more in case this letter is intercepted.) _

_I hope you'll write back to me to tell me how you're fairing. I really am concerned about your health._

_Best wishes,_

_Elaina_

Harry practically went into shock. The answer to his queries were right there in the letter. Floresta must be the village that the Voldemort was talking about! Now all he had to do was get to the village and walk into the forest, letting the key guide him the rest of the way. While Dudley was downstairs, Harry snuck onto his computer again and figured out how to print out information on the rainforest. Once he was sure he had everything he needed to know, Harry went back downstairs and bugged Dudley into giving him weightlifting pointers.

Voldemort had said something about the Brazilian Wizarding Government trying to cover up the attack, so the Order of the Phoenix probably didn't know anything about it. If Harry tried to contact them, he knew he'd have to explain about his vision and, more importantly, the key. Maybe he was mistaken, and with his luck, Harry thought, he probably was, but he had a feeling that told him he shouldn't inform the Order of the Phoenix about the attack. He had a feeling that there was something he needed to do. Something he needed to do alone.

He was going to look for the Temple. And Harry didn't care what he had to do, whether it be going against Dumbledore or going undercover with underwear, in order to find it.

* * *

It's the calm before the storm…. Well sort of. An adventure is in store for Harry in the next few chapters that will change everything.

In the **Next Chapter**, The Forest, Harry informs his relatives he's leaving, meets an old friend, and is reminded of the fact that not everything always turns out as planned, especially if your name is Harry Potter.

Yes, I know, I haven't updated in forever and this chapter's pretty short. And I know what you're thinking. I have no excuse not to update. It's not like I left the country or anything, right? Wrong. After using up precious computer time normally spent on fanfiction filling out an enormous application and an essay, I ended up winning a scholarship for a month-long exchange program in Germany. It was a great trip! I got back though… just in time for Band Camp.

Floresta means 'forest' in Portuguese (or so says the internet translator). As far as I know, there isn't a village in Brazil called Floresta, I just needed a name. If you're from Brazil and find this incredibly stupid, please excuse my ignorance and feel free to suggest a better name.

Yeah, yeah, I know I'll get them. Reviews telling me that Dudley and Aunt Petunia are out of character, but you know what, I don't really care at the moment. I can go back to my original story where everyone acts the way I want them to anytime if you want me to.

I'm also writing another fanfiction called Harry Potter and the Devil's Apprentice; if you like kind of dark AU mystery fics; go read it. And please ignore the fact that I'm shamelessly plugging my other fics on here.

Oh yeah, do you see why I need Elaina in here now? Harry's got to have a few connections or he's never going to go anywhere in this fic.


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